


Silence

by beingawesome



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Deception, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, I feel terrible, Muteness, Something I thought up, Sorrow, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 16:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 34,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1865010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beingawesome/pseuds/beingawesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knew that Norway often choked Denmark with his tie...but no one expected such disastrous consequences...</p><p>Hints of DenNor and SweFin</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

Chapter 1

He hadn’t expected this. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought it would be _so serious_.

He just shrugged it off, thinking it was normal…but according to the diagnostic report sent by his personal doctor, clutched in his pale, trembling hand, it was anything but.

He had laryngitis.

He hadn’t been able to speak for the past week or so, so he had stopped communicating with the rest of the Nordics completely. It hurt to try speaking, but Denmark was sure he could recover.

He _was_ a nation, after all.

But even nations could apparently get such illnesses.

 

The hand holding the report suddenly clenched, crumpling the paper, but he didn’t care. It made no difference anymore, did it?

The doctor had described his laryngitis to be severe.

Meaning he could probably never speak again… _ever_.

 

It completely crushed Denmark. He loved to speak…it was almost his life! And now…and now…his beloved voice was snatched from him, just gone.

But why was that?

The diagnosis held all the answers.

There was too much strain on his voice box. It had been harshly pressed against periodically.

That meant that it was supposed to be Norway’s fault.

But no, he couldn’t blame Norway…it _couldn’t_ be his fault!

It was most probably Denmark’s fault for provoking him to choke him in the first place. He should never have annoyed Norge.

Now he had to pay the price.

 

From that day, Denmark stopped contacting the other nations. He didn’t go to _any_ World Meetings…he couldn’t face the utter humiliation; after all, nations were almost nothing without their voice.

Instead, he sat at home, brooding sullenly, hoping that his voice would come back, even though he knew it was just wishful thinking.

He knew he was worrying Sweden, Finland, Norway, and even Iceland, but…he couldn’t face them.

Not like that.

 


	2. Chapter 1

“Norway, I’m getting worried.”

Norway stared at the oak wooden desk in front of him with emotionless blue eyes. “About what, Finland?”

“You know what!” Finland said exasperatedly, brown eyes shining with determination. “You know as well as I do, that something has happened to Denmark.”

“So what if he doesn’t attend a few meetings?” Iceland asked nonchalantly from beside him. “It _is_ Danmörk, after all.”

Sweden grunted in agreement from his position next to the Finnish man.

“Um, Iceland, Tanska is usually _late_ , he doesn’t miss meetings.”

Silence descended on the occupants of the room, after Finland’s statement.

He was right.

Denmark _never_ missed meetings. He would be late to them, as usual, and then would proceed to get choked by Norway.

Finland smiled a little once he saw that everyone understood his point. “Someone should go look for him.”

“N’t me.” Sweden spoke up.

“I don’t want to.” Iceland and Norway spoke in unison, both of them showing the same emotion: disinterest.

“Oh, please Norja!” Finland begged with his eyes wide with hope and distress. “You’re the only one he’ll talk to!”

“He won’t.” Norway stated. “You’re the one who is familiar with all of this, Finland. You should go.”

“No.” Finland shook his head determinedly. “You’re going to go, Norja.”  His voice shone with confidence, which slightly shocked Norway, because Finland had never sounded like that, with the exception of one or two times.

He took a good look at the stoic faces around him, before sighing, deciding to get the whole ordeal finished. “Alright then, I will go meet him.”

Finland beamed happily, clasping his hand together. “Wonderful! You should get going!”

“Now?”

“Yes, of course!” Norway just stared at him. “Are you joking?”

“No, why would I be?

 

About an hour later, Norway stood outside a brick house, glaring disdainfully at its door, which was painted red and white.

That, in itself, _reeked_ of Denmark.

Hesitantly, he brought his fist up with the intent of knocking on the door. With one look at the terrible paintwork, he ditched it in favor of jabbing the doorbell switch.

He waited for about 3 minutes until his patience wore thin.

 _“Excuse me,”_ he asked an old lady who happened to be passing by, in fluent Danish, “ _Do you know if the person staying here is at home right now?”_

She looked at him, tired brown eyes hosting mild confusion, before she understood. _“Oh, yes. He just doesn’t come out often anymore.”_

 _“He doesn’t?”_ Norway asked, a bit concerned, since Denmark was one of the few nations who would go out of their homes to meet their people, _“Are you sure?”_

The woman rolled her eyes, _“Of course I am. I may be old, but my eyes have never deceived me.”_

 _“Thank you.”_ Norway said, before remembering his manners, “ _And sorry if I offended you.”_

She just waved him off with a toothy grin.

 

Turning back, to the door, Norway steeled his shoulders, and prepared to knock down the door. Luckily, it opened right before he could even try.

Looking up, he froze. He had expected to see Denmark. Instead he saw a pale, frail form, with bloodshot eyes, no glint of laughter or enjoyment present in them.

This was not, no _could_ not be Denmark.

“Danmark?” He asked in shock, unable to believe it.

Denmark’s eyes widened, seemingly realizing that it was, in fact, Norway in front of the door. He moved to slam it shut, but was prevented by Norway, who placed his foot in the way.

“No.” Norway spoke, gritting his teeth in anger. “I am going to come in whether you like or not. Now let me in.”

After one weary look at the shorter blonde, Denmark stood aside.

“Good.” Norway walked inside, indifferent to the obnoxiously bright paintings that would normally have bothered him. “Now, what has gotten into you? Why do you keep missing the meetings? You have absolutely no idea how worried Finland has become.”

Denmark didn’t reply- he just looked sadly at his feet.

At that, Norway’s control snapped, and he grabbed for Denmark’s tie…only to find that it wasn’t there. Instead, he grabbed Denmark’s shoulders and slammed him against the wall, briefly noting how bony he had become.

“What is the matter with you?” He hissed irately. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Denmark just gazed at him somberly.

This just made Norway’s mood worsen. “Talk to me already!”

Denmark looked pained, before he opened his mouth and rasped out a stuttered, “C-can’t…”

Norway’s eyes widened in poorly concealed shock. “Y-you…can’t?”

At Denmark’s slow nod, he gritted his teeth, and slowly let go of his shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” The hot tendrils of anger slowly ebbed away, and his tone grew more distant.

Denmark just gave him a look, before walking towards the kitchen.

Norway had to hurry to match his pace, which was quite difficult due to the immeasurable amounts of food and papers collecting on the ground.

By the time he had gotten there, Denmark, who was previously hunched over the counter, turned around and held a large notepad with the words clearly printed:

_I can’t speak Norge._

Norway rolled his eyes. “We established that, _dum_. _Why_ can’t you speak?”

After about two seconds of crazy scrawling on Denmark’s part, the message read:

_I’m not entirely sure. I had got laryngitis, and it’s…apparently severe._

“ _Why_ do you have laryngitis?” Norway raised a thin eyebrow.

_I don’t know._

“What do you mean you don’t know?” He asked, eyebrow furrowed in confusion. “How can you not know?”

_Dunno._

“Okay,” Norway bit his lip to ensure full calmness. “When are you going to be able to speak again?”

Denmark lowered his gaze as though he was trying to avoid the question.

“Denmark?” He pressed more forcefully, with no luck. Denmark didn’t lift his gaze from the floor.

“ _Danmark_.” He spoke in calm anger, if that was even possible. “When. Will. It. Get. Cured?”

The taller blonde took precious time to write out the words that would most likely haunt Norway for the rest of his eternal life:

  _Never_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear...I've uploaded this story onto FanFiction as well.  
> I hope that this chapter's up to standard, and that it doesn't completely suck.  
> Thank you for the kudos! (That really should have been what I said first.)


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norway struggles to get a grip on the situation at hand.

"Well, I am going to tell Sweden and Finland." Norway stated, surprisingly calm. "Then we must tell the other nations too, as they need to know."

Denmark's hand shot out to catch Norway's arm at that.

 _"No."_ He mouthed, shaking his head frantically.

Norway sighed. This was going a lot worse than he had anticipated. He had thought that he would just go to Denmark's house, kick his butt for his stupidity, and return to Norway for some peace and calm. This was a whole lot worse.

"Why not?" He tried being patient with the silenced nation, but his tolerance was wearing thin.

Denmark scribbled something onto his notepad hastily. His messy scrawl read:

_'I don't want anyone to know about this. Please Norge.'_

Norway felt like smacking him upside the head. The fool was thinking about pride! He sighed. Denmark could be very stubborn, so he had no choice but to compromise.

"Okay. We will tell Sweden and Finland, but not the rest of the nations. Yet. You cannot hide from them forever, Denmark, and you know it."

Denmark pondered about it for a while, eyebrows knit together in concentration, before nodding reluctantly. He knew Norway was just as stubborn as he was.

"Good." Norway said, monotonously. "I am going to call them, then."

As he made the call, Denmark began to dive his hands into the fridge, fishing for something to eat, most likely.

After a few rings, Finland picked up the phone.

_"Hello? Norway is that-"_

"Come over. Now."

 _"But why? Denmark's not in trouble, is he? Oh my goodness, he's dead, isn't he? Oh, what am I going to do?!"_ Finland sounded like he was panicking, making Norway sigh in frustration.

"No Finland, he's not dead. He is alive. Now get Sweden and come here."

_"What about Iceland and Sealand?"_

Norway hesitated. In his opinion, both Sealand and Iceland were too young. While Iceland may have been old in years, he wasn't going to handle the situation well, and Norway was sure of it.

"No."

 _"Alright then…"_ Finland paused briefly. _"We'll be there by tomorrow."_

"See that you do." Norway spoke, before ending the call, and turning to face Denmark. "They'll be here by tomorrow."

Denmark, who was eating an apple nodded, looking sadly at the ground.

Norway nearly reached for Denmark's non-existent tie to strangle him for being so un-Denmark-like, before realizing that it wasn't there.

"Where is your tie?" He asked coolly, pretending not to notice Denmark's slight flinch as he said the word.

Denmark made a bunch of hand movements which Norway couldn't understand, obviously.

"Write it down, you fool." He said, annoyed. "I won't be able to understand you when you do that."

Sighing soundlessly, Denmark grabbed his notepad from the counter and slowly began to write, taking his time, before showing Norway the words:

_'The doctor told me not to wear it.'_

Norway's brow furrowed only slightly. The doctor told him not to wear his tie? That made no sense. Denmark was hiding something, and Norway could see it. However, he chose to deal with that later and only nodded.

Denmark gave an almost relieved smile, before hastily scribbling down, _'I'm tired. Gonna go up and rest.'_

"Okay." Norway spoke. "I'm not going to wake you up, though. You are going to have to do it yourself."

Denmark gave him a violent nod, before rushing upstairs.

Taking a look around the messy kitchen he was standing in, Norway decided that the untidiness of the house was bothering him, and so, began to clean.

An hour and around 20 trash bags later, Norway stood, tired, in a much cleaner kitchen. He had also cleaned the living room and dining room, which, frankly, wasn't as easy as it sounded. It surprised him to see how much trash Denmark lived with, in his house. As annoying and loud as Denmark was, he wasn't the type to throw around things everywhere. The sickness was probably taking its toll on him.

That brought Norway the other problem. The illness…the doctor had to be mistaken. There was no way _Denmark_ , of all nations could lose the ability to speak. It sounded as preposterous as America not being able to eat hamburgers.

And that could _never_ happen.

Norway wasn't sure what to think. He felt powerless, for the first time in forever. He couldn't do _anything_ to get Denmark's voice back, could he?

Without his voice, would Denmark even be able to survive? He had experienced only a brief moment with the changed nation, and Norway already felt uncomfortable.

He was _never_ supposed to feel like that around Denmark. _Never_.

Denmark wasn't supposed to be silent either. He wasn't supposed to look sad or sullen. He had no right. Denmark was the lively one, the one know as the energetic and crazy Nordic. Without him, the Nordics wouldn't even be the Nordics anymore, would they? They'd just be plain and lifeless.

Norway dropped into a chair as his thoughts doubled in number.

What would he do about Iceland and Sealand? They wouldn't be able to hide Denmark's problem from the two forever. There had to be a time where the two nations were to be told. But how would they react?

Sealand was particularly worrying. Denmark was like Sealand's lifeline; Sealand practically worshipped him. How would they be able to deal with him?

And then he had the people of the nation. How would the Danish survive without the guidance of their own nation? If Denmark continued being so distant and empty, there would be serious consequences to pay.

Norway dropped his head to his hands as a headache began to work its way through.

_What could he do?_

* * *

**So...how is it? I won't be able to upload the next chapter quickly, that's for sure. It may take more than a week, but...who knows? It depends, really.**

**~beingawesome XD**


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweden and Finland are told the truth.

“W-what?” Finland stuttered, chocolate brown eyes wide with disbelief. “He c-can’t…he can’t…”

“He can’t speak.” Norway finished for him. “Yes, that is what I said.”

“What are we going to do?” Finland was worried; it was obvious from how violently he wrung his hands. “I can’t tell Sealand; it would kill him! Denmark’s his favorite!”

That was true. Sealand wouldn’t tolerate the fact that his ‘Uncle Denmark’ wouldn’t be able to laugh and talk with him as he used to. He would probably die inside.

Finland and Sweden had come over, as promised. Norway had sent a disgruntled Sweden to go entertain Denmark, who had plastered on a deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. Norway was sure he’d be fine on his own…hopefully.

“Iceland cannot know either.” Norway spoke. “It is important that neither of them find out about this…bizarre development. I believe that they are too young.”

“That’s true, but…how can we stop them?” Finland sat down on an unoccupied chair. “I don’t know if Ber can take it, much less the kids-“

The door slammed open, and Sweden stood there in all his murderous glory, one hand fisted in Denmark’s shirt, holding him up and still.

Norway shot to his feet. “Sweden. Put. Him. Down.” He ordered.

“N’.” Sweden replied in anger. “H’ ‘s t’ll’ng m’ that h’s l’st h’s vo’ce.”

“Sweden, I am being serious. Put. Him. Down.”

“’s h’e t’lling th’ tr’th?” Sweden didn’t listen.

“Berwald, PUT HIM DOWN!” Finland cried out in anger and fear, making Norway give a barely noticeable start, and effectively shocking Sweden into letting go Denmark’s shirt.

The thin Scandinavian nation proceeded to cough painful, gasping for breath.

“To answer your question, Sweden, Denmark…” Norway swallowed, finding it difficult to get the words out, strangely, “Denmark cannot speak.”

Sweden stared at him in disbelief, before glancing over at Finland, only to find the same resolved and determined gaze in his eyes. Opening his mouth, and closing it a few times in shock, Sweden left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Denmark looked, in a word, heartbroken. His normally vibrant blue eyes were wide and watery, and his skin seemed a few shades paler, if possible.

“Denmark…” Norway started, but the other nation didn’t listen, and bolted from the room.

“You should go after him.” Finland spoke quietly. “I’ll check on Berwald.” Noticing Norway’s hesitance, Finland pressed, “Really, you should go.”

So, Norway set out in search of Denmark, grabbing his notepad as he did. It wasn’t really easy to find him, obviously, since it was Denmark’s house and, of course, Denmark knew most of the best hiding spots.

After about 10 minutes of tireless searching (made easy because Norway cleared up his house) he found Denmark on the terrace, staring wistfully at the horizon. He made no move to disturb the nation; he had never seen Denmark so contemplative.

Norway hesitated; _should he alert Denmark to his presence?_

He wasn’t sure of how Denmark would respond; would he be angry, or upset? Would he go hysterical, or act completely normal?

_“Danmark.”_ It was almost impossible to hear, but it somehow reached the older nation, who stiffened, then relaxed.

He turned around and gave Norway a wave, flashing a big _fake_ smile at him.

Hm…so, he was going for the ‘act normal’ response. This was going to be a bit difficult for Norway. He wasn’t one to completely beat around the bush for things, but he didn’t want to force things on Denmark.

He realized that he was just standing there, and that Denmark kept shooting confused looks his way, so he walked over to him and sat down.

Denmark looked at his feet, before giving an inaudible sigh and turning to gaze at the horizon.

Norway cleared his throat to gain Denmark’s attention. “Finland is worried.” He spoke firmly, yet softly. “You are acting like a complete idiot. Sweden is just in shock. He will snap out of it soon.”

Denmark didn’t answer; he didn’t show any signs of having heard Norway.

The younger nation’s eyes narrowed, though it was impossible to tell; it happened only for a brief second.

“Stop being difficult,” He spoke. “I can…understand that you are going through a large change. However, that does not mean that you act so…strange.”

Of course, what Norway really wanted to say was that Denmark was being an idiot, even more than usual, and that he should just get over it since none of them really cared whether he had his voice or not.

Denmark looked like he wanted to say something, but, of course, he couldn’t, which prompted Norway to give him his notepad that he had grabbed downstairs earlier, along with a pen, which Norway always carried around.

He wrote, _‘I’m fine, Norge. I’m not being difficult. Don’t worry about me.’_

Now, Norway wasn’t one to curse, but he couldn’t help himself. “Bullshit.” He spoke monotonously, ignoring Denmark’s silent surprise at his choice of words. “Something is wrong with you, idiot. Do not try and tell me that you are alright. It is quite easy to be able to tell when you lie, so don’t even try.”

Denmark opened his mouth to say something, but abruptly closed it again, eyes facing downwards as he realized that he _couldn’t_ say _anything_ , much less what he needed to. Watching as his expression fell slightly, Norway couldn’t help this odd pang in his chest. Was it…sadness? Pity?

“Write it down.” He instructed, trying hard to ignore the strange feeling.   
Denmark took his time in writing it out, much to Norway’s displeasure. _‘I didn’t know you could cuss. Is goody-goody Norway becoming…bad?! *gasp*’_

After seeing Norway’s expression though, Denmark quickly wrote down his next sentence. _‘There’s nothing wrong with me, I’m serious. Don’t worry about it, Norge.’_

As he wrote it down, Norway could see his eyebrow giving barely noticeable twitches, which made him frown faintly.

“Liar.”

_‘What? No!’_

“You’re lying again.”

_‘I am NOT.’_

“Stop this Denmark. I’m not in the mood for this.”

_‘Really, I’m fine. Don’t worry; I’ll come and talk to you when I feel like something’s wrong.’_

Norway highly doubted that, but based on Denmark’s stiff body language, the conversation was finished. He wouldn’t achieve anything even if he grilled Denmark for hours.

“Fine have it your way then.” He said, standing up and brushing off any imaginary dust particles he could reach. “I just came up here to tell you that Sweden is not angered with you, and that he just requires some…time.” Norway wrinkled his nose at that; he did not think that anyone would need time to cope with such changes.

The action did not go unseen. Denmark gave a silent laugh, and the faintest of smiles flickered over his face, making Norway feel a bit relieved. So the nation could still smile after all.

“Denmark,” He paused just as he was about to go downstairs. “Tomorrow, we are going to meet someone who can teach you sign language. Your handwriting, frankly, annoys me.”

The smile disappeared.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also updated on FanFiction under the same name. Updates on FanFiction are faster than on AO3, but I plan on updating here more, hopefully.
> 
> ~beingawesome


	5. Chapter 3.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finland thinks about things.

Finland was, admittedly, worried.

Nothing like this had _ever_ happened before with _any_ nation. It was quite strange, and frankly, very frightening. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Finland wasn’t one to be selfish, but this was one of the rare moments he wished someone else had this load to deal with. Not Denmark, not Norway, not Sweden…none of the Nordics. No one from his family.

Finland really wished, desperately, that they were granted with some- some _miracle_ , if possible, and they could live happily, with no problems at all. Of course, he knew he was being stupid; miracles like that almost never happened.

He hesitated.

Norway had asked him to keep Denmark’s condition a secret from the other nations, but Finland wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. After all, the nations _would_ find out eventually. Then, it’d be more problematic than before, and Norway wouldn’t be able to deal with it, Finland was sure.

He _had_ to tell someone.

Finland wasn’t one to blabber or gossip, though it may have seemed like it. No, he respected the others' privacy. In this case though…in this case, Finland would have to break the rules.


	6. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denmark and Norway visit the counselor.

As Norway seated himself next to Denmark, he briefly noted that the taller nation was shivering slightly.

“Are you cold?”

Denmark shook his head.

An awkward silence followed. Norway furrowed his eyebrows.

Denmark _was_ shivering, wasn’t he? That _had_ to mean he was cold. There was no other explanation.

“You should have brought your coat.”

 _‘I’m not cold.’_ Denmark mouthed, rolling his eyes shakily.

Norway raised an eyebrow. Alright then. He could suffer by himself.

 

He checked his watch, frowning. The appointment with the counselor had been scheduled for 10:30. Now, it was 10:45. Norway did not appreciate despicable time management skills. Of course, to his misfortune, he had to deal with Denmark on a daily basis, which was not very pleasant.

“Misters Bondevik and

Køhler!”

“Get up.” Norway commanded, waiting impatiently as Denmark stood up.

Norway, frankly, didn’t like Denmark’s choice of name. Mathias Køhler sounded stupid, and Norway preferred calling him Mikkel Densen, but he unfortunately could not always have his way.

The counselor’s room was quite small. It wasn’t completely closed in, nor was it wide and spacious. Cozy, would be an adequate word to describe it. A well-polished oak desk stood in front of two plush chairs. The walls were lined with motivational posters that made Norway want to cringe in disgust.

A person, sitting behind the desk, stood up, smiling warmly. She was rather pale, with frizzy auburn hair, and clear green eyes.

“Good Morning!” She spoke, never losing the smile. Norway wondered if she was related to Spain.

Denmark, being the over-enthusiastic dunce he was, gave a huge wave. Norway, like a normal person, tipped his head in greeting.

“You must be Ms. Frøya Olsen.” Norway forced a smile on his face. “I am Lukas Bondevik, and this is Mathias Køhler.”

She smiled, _again_. “Pleased to meet you. Take a seat please.”

Denmark did so immediately, while Norway was a bit slower to follow.

“So…” Frøya began, clasping her hands in front of her. “You cannot speak correct?”

Denmark winced at that, but nodded.

“He does not feel comfortable talking about it.” Norway said icily, a bit angered that she asked the question so tactlessly. “He would just like to learn how to communicate with other individuals.”

Frøya ignored his cold tone, and only nodded. “I see. I would suggest him to learn sign language. It’s generally deaf people who have to learn it, but it’s not uncommon for mutes either.”

Norway nodded, although he felt the tiniest bit of anger at the label. Denmark didn’t seem to care, and as long as he was fine, Norway would not say anything.

“I am not the best person to assist you in sign language, however.” Frøya continued. “If you want, I can refer you to a friend of mine. I’m sure he’d be available to help you out.”

Norway suddenly felt like stomping his feet childishly and ripping off one of Frøya’s motivational posters and throwing it in her face. However, he was no child; he would act maturely.

“I see.” He said after a moment of silence. “Could you give me his number?”

“Of course.” The woman answered.

 

The drive back home was a bit awkward, even by Norway’s standards. Denmark would normally fill in the silence, chattering animatedly about all the nonsense he could come up with. Now that he _couldn’t_ speak, the silence could not be filled.

“So…” Norway spoke, surprising himself, and even Denmark, by the looks of it. The latter’s eyes showed surprise, and Norway could not blame him. Denmark knew that Norway did not like to speak in the car, preferring to stay focused on the road, so this…this was, most likely, surprising.

“I spoke to the man who Olsen was talking about,” At Denmark’s nod, he continued, “He said that he wouldn’t be free until the next weekend. I’m guessing we will be able to go on Sunday.”

 _‘Okay_.’ Denmark mouthed, and it took all of Norway’s willpower to not bang his head against the steering. It unnerved him to see Denmark’s mouth moving, but no sound coming out of it.

“I…” Norway cleared his throat. “I would also like to view your doctor’s report, if you still have it. It would be useful in dealing with your…condition.”

It was a crude way of saying it, but it had to be done.

Denmark nodded sullenly, before choosing to direct his gaze out the window.

 

They reached Denmark’s house in about 10 minutes after that- 10 very awkward minutes.

“Go on in.” Norway told Denmark. “I’ll come after you in a while.”

After making sure that Denmark left, Norway walked towards the grocery store. He had seen, while cleaning, that there was little to no food in the house. Considering that both Sweden and Finland had also decided to take residence there, he had no choice but to shop for food, since Denmark would make a mess out of it.

He tried to take as little time as possible, but unfortunately, the gods were not on his side. Luckily, he had chosen to walk to the store, instead of driving, else, he would have been stuck in terrible traffic. However, the store was jam-packed, with many people bustling around busily. It seemed as though he had picked the wrong day to shop for groceries. The line he had to stand in was _ridiculously_ long, and if he hadn’t survived through numerous wars as a nation, Norway might have run away in fear. To top it all, both the person in front of him, and the one behind, had babies. Screaming, wailing, CRYING babies. Norway was surprised that his ear drums had not been torn to pieces by their horribly loud cries. By the time he managed to get _out_ of the store, he was panting, and out of breath.

 _‘Note to self: Never go to a grocery store on a Saturday, in Copenhagen.’_ Norway told himself. _‘At least, not this particular store.’_

Walking home, luckily, took no longer than five minutes, tops. Norway breathed a sigh of relief as he stood at Denmark’s front door, bag of groceries in hand. He rang the bell.

Finland opened the door, and for some reason, he looked very pale.

“Oh, N-Norway!” He stuttered, pulling the door back. “You went grocery shopping.”

“Yes.” Norway eyed him strangely. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine.” Finland laughed shakily. “Come in!”

Removing his shoes, he followed the Finnish man inside. “Are you sure you are alright? You seem to be very-“

He cut himself off, wide-eyed. _Oh no…_

“ _Norway_.” Iceland snarled. “ _We need to talk_.”

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation time and a mini-counseling session for Norway (feat. Sw'den)

“Why didn’t you _tell me_?” Iceland’s gaze was sharp, his expression not giving anything away.

Norway was at a loss as to what to say. He couldn’t just tell Iceland that he thought he was too inexperienced to know this. Unlike the other nations, inclusive of the rest of the Nordics, Iceland was smarter, more observant. Norway had to speak the truth, and he couldn’t even ‘simplify’ it.

How problematic.

Norway actually wanted to kill someone. How had Iceland found out about this, anyways? Finland wouldn’t have told…right?

“Are you going to answer me, or not?” If possible, his gaze turned _more_ _intense_.

“I did not want to tell you.” Norway admitted, seating himself across Iceland.

They were sitting on the sofas in Denmark’s living room; the other occupants had all left to leave Norway to suffer. Denmark was going to pay dearly for this.

“Why? You don’t trust me?” Iceland violet eyes held a tinge of betrayal. “Or, do you think I am too young?”

If Norway were any other nation, he would have winced. Iceland had hit the nail on the head. Fortunately for him, Norway _wasn’t_ any other nation, so he didn’t even flinch.

“It is not a matter of trust.” Norway stood up, choosing to pace slowly instead. “It more a matter of self-control, which, honestly, I don’t think you have.”

Iceland opened his mouth to retort, pale cheeks slowly turning the faintest shade of red, but Norway didn’t allow for any contradictions.

“You would not be able to hold back your anger.” He pointed out. “That, in itself, is a dangerous trait, so I could not take the chance of other nations discovering this.”

Iceland’s unique amethyst eyes hardened. “I suppose Sweden was a _wonderful_ choice. You act as though I have many people to spread the word to.”

Norway’s gaze steeled at the heavy sarcasm Iceland used.

“Control yourself.” He spoke emotionlessly. “Sweden was more-“

“-experienced?” Iceland’s eye twitched slightly. “So it _is_ about my age, isn’t it? I should have known.” His tone conveyed that he was bitter and frustrated.

“No, Iceland, that is not-“

“Please, don’t.” Iceland interrupted him. “I need some time.”

He left the room, probably to reunite with Mr. Puffin.

“That could have gone better, huh?”

Norway looked up to see Finland smiling nervously at him, and felt his insides clench in anger. Before he could stop himself, he had Finland pinned against the wall, trembling in fright.

“You told him, didn’t you?” It was more of statement than a question. “You _bastard_.”

“No, Norway, you don’t understand-“

“What don’t I understand?” Red was beginning to form at the edges of his vision. “I _knew_ what I was doing, Finland, and you’ve gone and messed it up-”

“I _didn’t_!” Finland cried, wide brown eyes watery. “I didn’t d-“

“Wh’t ‘s g’ing ‘n?” Sweden entered the fray, looking disgruntled until he noticed their position, and his gaze sharpened. “Wh’t ‘re y’ do’ng t’ m’ wife?”

“Sweden!” Finland wailed, completely forgetting the earlier incident. “I’m _not_ your wife!”

“Your _wife_ ,” Norway snarled, “Told Iceland about Denmark. Now, Iceland is most likely going to tell all the other nations and Denmark _won’t like it._ ”

Sweden looked unaffected. “L’t go ‘f F’nl’nd. I t’ld Iceland.”

“ _You_ told him?” Norway let go of Finland, stumbling back in shock. “ _Why_ would you do that?”

“H’ d’s’rved t’ kn’w.” Sweden spoke strongly.

“Well, Sealand deserves to know too,” Here, Sweden’s eyes widened, “Maybe I should tell him too.”

“You wouldn’t DARE.” Finland had recovered. “Sealand doesn’t deserve this.”

“And neither does Denmark!” Norway hissed, before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Leave me.”

“But-“

“ _Leave. Me._ ”

They, thankfully, got the hint, and left the room, Finland looking angry, and Sweden remaining calm, as usual.

Norway huffed in annoyance, settling down on the couch, yet again, to calm down. He hated to admit it, but Denmark’s couches were extremely comfortable. He didn’t notice the silent, almost awkward, entrance of Denmark himself, since he closed his eyes and all.

A light touch on his shoulder interrupted his inner anger management session.

“Oh, Denmark.” He blinked. “What do you want? Go do…whatever it is that you do these days.”

Denmark rolled his eyes, in a typical Denmark fashion, making Norway’s chest lighten up a little. Maybe there was hope yet.

 _‘Thanks,’_ He showed him his notepad, before making himself comfortable next to Norway, _‘For thinking about me, at least.’_

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Norway’s cheeks colored slightly despite his harsh words. “I did not do it for you.”

 _‘Of course… 9_9’_ Denmark added a smiley rolling its eyes. _‘I just wanted to say thanks, Norge. Is that so bad?’_

Norway looked away, unable to think of anything not-too-harsh to say. “Just go away.”

 _‘Aw, so mean!’_ The notepad was almost shoved into his face, just to ensure that he would see it.

“Shut up.”

 

Later, as Norway was fixing himself dinner, Iceland showed up.

“Oh.” He said, unsurprised. “What do you want, Iceland?”

He tried to pass off as bored, but in reality, he was very, _very_ interested to know what Iceland had to say. He was sure that he had come to apologize.

“I’m going back to Iceland.” Norway was astonished. This was _not_ what he was expecting.

Iceland, being the observant sibling he was, shook his head slightly.

“You though I would come apologize?” He scoffed. “It was not my fault: that is certain. You were wrong this time. Deal with it. I leave tomorrow morning. And no, I do not have a problem with Denmark’s sickness; that is something we cannot help, now.”

“Don’t just stand there _brother_. Have you _nothing_ to say for yourself?”

By now, Norway had recovered from his shock. Brother or not, Iceland had crossed the line.

“I said it before, and I will say it again,” Norway glared at him. “I do not regret my decision.”

“Fine have it your way then.” Iceland spoke monotonously, and for some reason, that hurt more. Norway would have felt a lot better if Iceland screamed at him, but this silent acceptance…it was insulting, almost.

When Iceland left, Finland entered, looking worried. “ _Norja_ , I’m so sorry!” He begged. “I didn’t know that Sweden would do that.”

“No, it is not your fault,” Norway murmured distractedly. “He…would have found out anyways, I suppose. I just hope he does not spread the word. I must apologize for the earlier…incident.”

“Regardless, I am sorry.” The Finn looked apologetic. “This never would have turned out so terribly if Sweden hadn’t told.”

“I…” Norway paused, considering what he was going to say carefully. “Should I have…told him?”

He was not one to ask for another’s advice, but in this case, Norway was at a loss. He did what he thought was correct, but was not so considerate of the emotions of others. Finland, however, was more compassionate and caring; he made his decisions based on what he thought was good for his family. Together, they sort of balanced out.

“I think you should have.” Finland bit his lip in thought, pulling out a pack of coffee beans. “I think he sees as a breach of trust. Considering the fact that he’s Iceland...it isn’t exactly a good sign.”

“I see.” Norway blinked. “Err…you’re drinking coffee now? It is dinner time.”

“Oh!” Finland blushed. “This isn’t for me- it’s for Sweden. You know how much he loves coffee.”

At the mention of Sweden, Norway’s mood darkened a bit. He was the one who told Iceland, after all. However, he tried to shake it off with the thought that the Iceland Affair would have been inevitable anyways.

“Should we tell Sealand?” Norway asked quietly. “It may cause a repeat of this if we do not.”

Finland looked unsure. “No, not yet, I think. We’ll tell him…just…not now.”

Norway nodded. “Enjoy your coffee then.”

“It’s Berwald’s!” He heard Finland shout as he left the kitchen, dinner in hand. “I told you that, Norja!”

 

It was almost time for bed. Norway stood at the window, gazing at the stars. It had been a while since he had stayed at Denmark’s house. What was it…15 years? Or was it more?

Nonetheless, he felt a bit of nostalgia swell up in him. He had always slept in one specific room whenever he did grace Denmark with his presence. Denmark had left everything as it was; it was unchanged.

“N’rw’y.” He stiffened when he heard Sweden’s voice, before he forced himself to relax.

“Sweden.” He kept his voice neutral. “What do you want?”

He could see the Swede’s reflection against the glass, and made no move to turn around.

“I w’nt’d t’ ap’l’gize.” Sweden remained at the entrance, not moving an inch. “I st’ll b’l’eve th’t I w’s r’ght, but m’ w’fe t’ld m’ to.”

“Well, apology accepted…I think.” Norway furrowed his brow slightly. “Are you apologizing?”

“M’ybe, m’ybe n’t.” Sweden shrugged, before leaving to his own room, which he shared with Finland.

 _‘Of course,’_ Norway seethed, _‘Act all cryptic, and then leave.’_

_‘Drittsekk.’_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL, I just realized I haven't updated on AO3 for...quite a while. I'm gonna be mass uploading right now, because I have nothing better to do (AKA "I do, but I'm procrastinating").
> 
> Forgive me!


	8. Chapter 6

**Denmark’s Chapter- a different perspective on things…**

“Stop sweating.”

Denmark didn’t have to look up to know that Norway was probably frowning angrily at him. He had enough experience with the pale blond nation to know those kinds of things.

He shrugged his shoulders, hoping that he passed off as nonchalant.

They were at the house of that speech person Therapist Olsen had suggested. Denmark was reasonably flustered- this was new, going to doctors and other random people. He wasn’t mental or anything, people didn’t have to act so… _soft_ towards him. It was unnatural, almost. Only Sweden treated him the same. Finland and Norway, however…

Denmark cringed.

He should have tried harder to prevent them from finding out. They wouldn’t have been so worried due to the result of his stupidity. They would have been happily doing whatever they liked to do, wherever they were. Instead, they were grounded to Copenhagen, a place that reeked of Denmark’s misery.

 _‘Iceland was right to react the way he did,’_ Denmark thought idly as Norway busily scrolled through his phone. _‘I wouldn’t want to be with me, either. I’d only be a burden to him, anyway.’_ He peeked at Norway subtly. _‘Norge wouldn’t be so stressed out.’_

“What are you thinking about, fool?”

Denmark resisted the urge to smile. At least _that_ much hadn’t changed. Norge was still a _little_ cold to him. He shook his head in response to his question, before gazing into the distance.

A bit of fear slowly built up in his chest as he remembered something that had completely slipped his mind, until then. His hands unconsciously tightened their grip on his satchel, which held the crumpled Doctor’s Note inside. What if the Speech Therapist asked him about that?

_How would he tell Norge?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOL, I just realized I haven't updated on AO3 for...quite a while. I'm gonna be mass uploading right now, because I have nothing better to do (AKA "I do, but I'm procrastinating").
> 
> Forgive me!


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It had been two months since Sweden and Finland’s departure. Norway had found out that Denmark hadn’t taken their absence very well, and had retreated more into himself, if possible. However, he discovered that his worries were for nothing; it had only been a phase. Denmark was back to normal, well, as normal as he was when Norway checked up on him, after a few more visits to Nathan.

Luckily, he wasn’t just sitting around moping anymore, and, once in a while, actually tried helping Norway out, which actually gave him a lot more work to do. He hadn’t ever remembered being so tired as he was after Denmark managed to make a mess of the kitchen trying to ‘cook for Norge!’ Why he had the rottenest luck, he would never know.

Denmark’s presence was beginning to be missed. Nations were starting to suspect that something was wrong.., and were repeatedly pressing _Norway_ for information every time he went to the World Meetings. It was getting quite annoying for him; why not Sweden or Finland…or even Iceland for that matter? Sealand was also beginning to get twitchy, according to frantic calls and texts from Finland.

Iceland had made it clear that he wouldn’t be speaking to Norway, but he had made it a point to try and help Demark, for which Norway felt a bit grateful, though he said nothing. At least once a week, a package would arrive containing some objects or gifts of sorts. For a socially awkward nation such as Iceland, it must have been a pretty big deal. Anyways, Denmark seemed to look forward to it; Iceland’s efforts were paying off.

At present, both Norway and Denmark were going for a morning stroll. It was a habit that Norway had picked up after spending time with Sweden and Finland. Walking always helped him stay calm, and would allow him to think clearly.

 _‘What’s wrong?’_ Denmark signed as a particularly dreadful silence passed. _‘You’re doing your weird thinking thing again.’_

“What weird thinking thing?” Norway snapped. “I’m doing no such thing.”

_‘Um, yeah you are. You’re just staring off into the distance. You nearly crashed into a tree, in fact.’_

“No, I did not. Don’t make things up like that.” Norway chastised.

_‘I’m not making anything up!’_

The silence returned, and somehow it seemed worse than before.

 

Norway thought for a while.

“Denmark,” He said, “There _is_ a problem, actually.”

At Denmark’s expectant nod, he continued, albeit hesitantly, “What are you going to do next?”

 _‘Go home?’_ Denmark looked confused.

Norway sighed. The idiot wasn’t getting it.

“Listen to me _properly_.” He stressed. “The nations, including Sealand are beginning to figure out that something is going on. You’ve been away for three months, Denmark, _three months_.”

The taller nation seemed to deflate at that, settling down at a nearby park bench, and wearily running his hands through his hair. He had this haunted look, and his eyes were completely dull, so unlike him that Norway was beginning to regret taking the decision to tell him. He had known that Denmark wouldn’t take it so well, but he had expected anger, maybe, but not…desperation.

 _‘Do I have to?’_ Denmark silently pleaded. _‘Is it necessary?’_

“Yes.” Norway avoided Denmark’s gaze, staring instead at his hands. “You have to eventually, Denmark. Delaying the inevitable is quite risky, and usually does not turn out well. You know that.”

Denmark flinched at that, and for a moment, Norway felt worried that he said something that would cause Denmark to retreat back into himself, but Denmark finally nodded, putting him at ease.

_‘Just…give me some time.’_

“Of course,” Norway nodded graciously. “Shall we return home?”

At Denmark’s uncaring shrug of the shoulders, they began their journey back.

 

By the time they had reached Denmark’s house, it was around nine thirty. They had started around eight, so it was justifiable to say that they were tired. Well, Denmark was tired. Norway was…not so much. He was used to it.

“I’m going up to shower.” He called down to Denmark as he ascended the stairs. “I think you should too.”

Denmark nodded distractedly, his eyes fixated on T.V. He was watching something…what was it? Ah yes, Merlin.

Norway stopped short.

_Merlin?_

He didn’t think that Denmark would watch those kinds of things. He wasn’t much of a magic fan, was he? He even claimed to hate England and everything associated with him! And here he sat, watching a T.V. show that was most certainly British.

Norway hesitated, before slowly walking back down and taking a seat next to the engrossed Dane, allowing himself to gaze at the television. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Exactly forty-two minutes later, Norway found himself staring at the screen in shock.

“Arthur _died_?!” He murmured incredulously. “That’s impossible!”

Overwhelmed by emotion, Denmark tried to shout, _“I know, right?”_ , only to freeze as he realized nothing would come out. He proceeded to sign the same thing. He tried not to get too hung up on it; he had to move on, right?

Norway froze.

“Crap. I need to… my shower.” He murmured, before bolting off in the direction of his room.

Denmark grinned cheerily at the shorter nation’s back.

 

Norway was ill-tempered by the time he descended the stairs. The fact that Denmark _still_ hadn’t showered only served to add to his ire, and he snapped, “Why haven’t you showered?”

Denmark gave him a half-hearted shrug, yet high-tailed to the shower anyways. When Norway was grumpy, no one wanted to make him further irritated. It never turned in their favor.

When Denmark had made it to the shower, he sighed. He _had_ wanted to get away from the formidable Norwegian, but that wasn’t the reason for the tired sound emitted by the Danish nation.

He had been thinking about Norway’s proposal.

He knew he couldn’t hide forever. He knew he had to get out there and show his face to the other nations. He knew that if he didn’t, his entire country, not just him, would end up suffering. And he couldn’t have that.

His people were his _treasure_. They were his _lifeline_.

Still, despite the drawbacks of _not_ telling the other nations, Denmark was still skeptical. What if they ridiculed him? He may have come off as the laid-back type, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t care about what the others thought of him. As it was, they already thought he was good-for-nothing. Being unable to speak? That would only make things worse.

And apart from that, he still had a large problem. If the other nations wanted to know _why_ he had gotten laryngitis, then…

He clenched his fist.

_Norway would find out._

 


	10. Chapter 8

“Stop fidgeting so much.” Norway spoke, annoyed, “Why is it that you always do that?”

Denmark shrugged, sending the irked nation a sheepish grin, and attempting to withhold his weak trembling. _‘Sorry.’_

Norway rolled his eyes, saying, “Well, see that you don’t do it again.”

 

They were in Copenhagen Airport, waiting for their flight to Japan for the World Meeting. Denmark was understandably nervous, Norway had to admit; it was going to be a bit difficult for him to fit in. The other personifications would definitely suspect something due to his reticence. It wasn’t like Denmark to act so quiet, after all. Still, Denmark was adamant that he try to go unnoticed for as long as he could, and Norway really couldn’t refuse him.

Denmark was honestly making him go soft.

 

 _“Passengers may begin boarding for the flight 7E427 to Tokyo.”_ That served as the signal for Norway to collect his suitcase and motion for Denmark to do the same. After he managed to force Denmark to leave his seat, he slightly wondered why the Dane had been so nervous. It was starting to worry him; Denmark was never one to think deeply about things.

So, not everything had returned to normal.

They stood near their gate, waiting patiently as the people in front of them got their boarding passes checked. Norway tried not to fidget himself; he was, after all, in charge of defending Denmark. They had not discussed it together; however, he was sure that Denmark would require a lot of attention and support. Not everyone would take it standing down.

After getting their baggage checked for stamped tags, they made their way to the plane. They had both, of course, gotten first class seats, which included many features that Norway found enjoyable enough, and Denmark found…fun. In particular, it was the reclining chair that won their hearts, even though Norway refused to admit it.

The journey was altogether smooth, save for the awkward moment where an air hostess tried asking Denmark if he wanted anything, but wasn’t able to understand _what_ he wanted. Luckily, Norway was able to control the situation; at best, the air hostess hadn’t asked too many questions, and quickly went to get the water Denmark had ordered. Norway had briefly wondered why Denmark was taking _water_ ; he would usually order coke, or some other soft drink. He shrugged it off, though; he shouldn’t complain since, after all, it was a lot healthier. Maybe Denmark was taking a leaf out of his book.

At night, or day, whatever it was, Norway had no trouble falling asleep. It was hard work to keep watch on Denmark anyways. He wasn’t very sure if Denmark himself had fallen asleep or not, but he assumed that he did and found, the next morning, that he was, in fact, correct.

The touchdown at Narita Airport was smooth; a little bumpy, but that was to be expected. Getting off of the aircraft was a painstakingly long process due to the slow-moving line that had been formed by the passengers. By the time they had finally gotten out of the airport, Norway felt as though the entire world was pulling his leg

…Literally.

His leg was actually hurting, he supposed that it had cramped during his sleep. A flight for 11 hours was pretty difficult, even for one with so much travel experience as Norway.

They managed to hail a taxi to their hotel. Norway had made sure to read up on Tokyo a bit, so that they would be able to move around a bit easily.

The hotel looked expensive; according to his boss, it was one of the most famous hotels in Tokyo. The Imperial Hotel was definitely one of a kind, apparently Tokyo’s oldest, and extremely expensive hotels. The suite came for around 66,000 krones, and the standard room, for around 2,400 krones, which Norway still found unreasonable. Still, his boss had insisted, and compromised on the suite, saying that he would book a standard room instead, after much argument from Norway’s side. What good would it do to spend so much for one or two nights?

His boss was probably going to be quite ticked off with Norway for a while; he had gone to Denmark and stayed with him despite his protests, and then he refused to stay in the room his boss wanted him to.

The room, although a bit cramped, was enough for he and Denmark, although there _was_ one little problem.

There was only _one_ bed.

Norway felt too exhausted to call for another mattress, which would probably cost another 100 krones (who knew?), so plopped down on the bed, motioning for Denmark to do the same.

“As long as you don’t start rolling onto me, you can sleep here.” He muttered, loud enough for Denmark to hear. “Got it?”

Denmark rolled his eyes before nodding. _‘Goodnight.’_

Norway didn’t reply; he just fell asleep…only to wake up two hours later.

 

“What do you want?” He slurred, his voice thick with sleep. “Go back to…sleep.”

Denmark shook his head furiously, looking panicked.

 _‘I can’t sleep, Norge. I…I’m just scared about tomorrow.’_ At Norway’s pursed lips, he immediately revised his sentence. _‘B-but you don’t have to do anything! I’ll figure it out myself: you sleep.’_

Norway rolled his eyes. _‘What an idiot.’_

“How would I be able to sleep, _dum_? I can’t just let you go through it yourself.”

He raised his hand, hesitant, before patting Denmark’s hair softly, as though it would make everything go away. In a sense, he _did_ hope that it did just that, so that Denmark would stop freaking out.

“Sleep, _Danmark,_ ” He said tiredly. “Nothing will happen tomorrow, okay? Do not worry.”

Denmark stared up at him, baby blue eyes wide with surprise, before they softened into something else: something softer. _‘Okay, Norge.’_ He snuggled up close to the Norwegian, and fell asleep, indicated by his slow, soft breaths.

Norway stared at him, a slight blush overtaking his cheeks. “Hey idiot, I didn’t tell you to fall asleep on me.”

No response.

“Hey, Denmark!”

Nothing, just a soft snore.

Norway sighed, smiling fondly, before making himself comfortable. He could only hope that everything turned alright…for Denmark’s sake.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 9

The next morning, it was Norway who woke up sleepy and tired with barely noticeable bags under his eyes, not Denmark. The latter was, in fact, looking quite fine and well-rested, Norway thought enviously, but he didn’t complain. He _couldn’t_ , actually.

Although the Dane _looked_ alright, Norway was sure he was quite restless and tensed about the day’s events. However, he did not preoccupy himself such worrying thoughts; he had to have a cup of coffee first. Even tea would do. He would do anything to stay awake.

_‘Let’s go?’_

Norway looked up at Denmark, skillfully stifling a yawn, and nodded. They had taken little time in getting ready: just around 15 minutes or so in total. Norway honestly just wanted to get everything done with.

They hailed a taxi from the hotel, which was surprisingly easy. Norway had expected it to be a lot harder, though he wasn’t complaining. The taxi ride was silent; Denmark was staring outside the window to distract himself, while Norway was fingering his phone.

The Norwegian gave a small start when his phone buzzed, indicating that he had received a message. It was a bit surprising since he barely ever texted; he usually just called people. After checking it out, he saw that Finland had sent the text.

_‘Hey! U ok?’_

He glanced at Denmark from the corner of his eyes, and seeing that he was still staring out the window, typed back clumsily:

_‘We’re fine, I guess. How’s the Sealand issue?’_

It took a few moments, but his phone buzzed again.

_‘We haven’t dealt with it yet. Will soon.’_

Norway replied:

_‘Better now than later.’_

He didn’t receive any more messages.

 

They arrived at their destination, and after generously paying the taxi driver entered the Tokyo Conference Center at Shinigawa. It was a rather intimidating building, Norway had to admit. It was quite tall, and slim, but the height was the problem here, not the width.

 _‘Can we just hail a taxi back to the hotel?’_ Denmark asked hopefully. _‘We could get some more coffee-‘_

“Hey Denmark!”

Norway immediately tore his gaze from the Dane’s hands and swiveled around to meet cheerful blue eyes.

It was America.

Denmark gave him a nervous grin, trying to look normal.

“What were you doin’ with your hands?” He asked boisterously. “It looked sorta like sign language!”

Denmark looked panic-stricken when Norway intervened.

“He has this… _bet_ going with someone.” He tried to look disapproving. “He cannot speak for a week.”

“A _week_?!” America’s eyebrows flew up in shock, before he whistled lowly, “That’s gotta be hard!”

“Yes, considering he’s Denmark.” Norway fought a smile. “It is quite difficult.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The American nodded dismissively, giving a jaunty wave 5 seconds later. “I’ll see ya guys later then! Iggy’ll have my head if I don’t get inside soon!”

 _‘Thanks.’_ Denmark smiled at Norway gratefully, once the tall nation left.

“Don’t mention it.” Norway looked straight ahead. “Be careful next time, dolt.”

 

They made it inside the building, the direction of the conference hall being directed by a few helpful humans. Norway wasn’t sure what possessed him to do such a thing, but nonetheless, it didn’t change the fact that he squeezed the Dane’s shoulder in a somewhat comforting gesture.

The nation looked a bit shocked at the unusual display, before his features softened, and his face nearly split in half due to the crazy grin that overtook his features.

Japan was the first person they had to encounter. Smiling politely at them, he bowed, asking them if they needed anything. Denmark had a slightly guilty look on his face, making Norway briefly wonder what he was thinking about.

“Er…Norway-san? Denmark-san? Would you require anything?”

Norway was shaken out of his stupor by the slightly confused Japanese nation, and quickly moved to cover it up. “No, I don’t need anything, thank you.”

The shorter man nodded, before turning expectantly towards Denmark.

“He doesn’t require anything either.”

Norway found, much to his surprise, Finland joining them, Sweden trailing behind him.

“Hello Japan!” He greeted cheerily. “Long time no see, eh?”

“Er, yes, Finland-san.” Japan grew a bit flustered, before giving another bow, saying, “I hope you do not mind if I take my leave?”

“’f c’urse.” Sweden nodded.

He left, but not before giving Denmark an odd glance.

 

After the host had left them, Finland broke the silence. “All that’s left is to wait for Iceland then!”

“No need.” A smooth voice cut in. “I’m already here.”

Looking at Denmark, Iceland nodded. “Doing well, I presume.”

Norway tried not to let the hurt show when Iceland completely ignored him. It _was_ justified to some extent, his anger, not that he would admit it anytime soon.

“Let’s go in, shall we?”

 

“SO, what I’m saying is that we _REALLY_ need to do something about global warming.” America was saying. “I mean, we can’t just keep talking about it forever; we need more action! We’re endangering ourselves and our people by just sittin’ around here!”

England sighed. “While that is a valid point America, what do you propose we do? And no more of that ‘hero’ thing, please.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” America adopted a look of irritation.

As the two began bickering, and causing the other nations to do so as well, Norway turned to Denmark and said, “I’ve just realized something.”

_‘What is it?’_

“We were supposed to tell the nations about your problem. I told America that you lost a _bet_.”

 _‘Oh, yeah.’_ Denmark pondered, before hesitantly suggesting. _‘We could still tell them though. Just say that you were worried about me. It’s not a complete lie anyway.’_

“I was _not_ worried about you.” Norway snarled at the amused nation. “Shut up. Are you sure about this?”

_‘Weren’t you the one who ordered me to make it known?’_

“That’s true…but I only asked right now so that Finland wouldn’t bother me about no giving you choices or something of the sort.”

A glance in the Finnish man’s direction showed that he was currently blabbering excitedly to an exasperated Sweden, most likely about…well, anything really. Finland never had a particular subject of interest.

_‘So…how do we tell them?’_

It seemed that they didn’t have to, when Poland, who was checking his reflection in his mirror started in surprise, and spun around.

“Like, oh my god!” His forest green eyes were wide. “What were you, like, doing with your hands? Like, why didn’t you just talk?”

Ah, well. Poland was known for his straight-forwardness. However, he was also known for his extremely loud mouth. Almost every nation in the area stopped what they were doing and stared at Norway and Denmark in confusion. This, in turn, caused the other occupants of the room to stop in confusion.

“Well…” Finland broke the silence. “This is weird…”

“What were you doing Denmark?” _Greece_ had even woken up. “With your…uh…hands…”

He dozed off.

Denmark looked panic-stricken, despite his confident proclamation just moments ago.

“He has some sort of bet going on doesn’t he?” America asked obliviously.

Norway decided it was time to intervene, before Denmark combusted on the spot.

“No, it was not a bet.”

“Huh?” America looked confused. “It’s not?”

“Shush, _Amérique_.” France spoke. “Let us listen, _non_?”

“I am sure that some of you remember that Denmark was absent for most of the World Meetings?” Norway asked rhetorically, receiving a few nods.

“Vhat happened?” Prussia asked. “Vhy vas _he_ allowed to ditch?”

Norway looked at him dead in the eye. “ _Preussen_ , you do not have to be here, yet you remain. Why must you complain? No one is stopping you from leaving.”

As Prussia shifted uncomfortably, Norway felt somewhat regretful. It was in the Prussian’s nature to say things like that when he felt pressurized. However, Norway didn’t really feel like apologizing: maybe in a few months?

“Anyways, as I was saying, “He continued, “Denmark had encountered a bit of a problem.”

This was the hard part.

As Norway prepared to let the news out, Finland spoke instead.

“Denmark had gotten sick, as most of us thought. The thing is, we didn’t really expect him to be so far gone.”

“Was he, like, dying or something?” Poland looked terrified.

“No.” Finland shook his head, looking troubled.

Norway cut in. “He had laryngitis.”

“So?” Romano snapped from across Greece. “It’s just a human illness. The bastard could have recovered!”

“Lovi!” Spain cried from beside him. “Don’t say that! _Debes estar simpático._ ”

“No, he couldn’t.” Norway replied frostily. “It seemed to be severe.”

Japan gasped. “Are you saying…”

America seemed to make the connection too. “That’s why I saw him…”

“What are you two talking about?” Russia spoke up. “You should share with all of us, _da_?”

“Yes, please hurry so we may continue the meeting.” Germany crossed his arms.

After exchanging a look with Denmark, who was trembling slightly in fear, Norway stepped closer to him.

“What we mean to say is…Denmark cannot speak.”

 


	12. Chapter 10

What happened after their statement was nothing short of pandemonium.

It was Britain who had blown up first.

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" He yelled loudly, his face slowly turning a startling shade of red. "H-how could he possibly lose his voice!"

Denmark visibly flinched, and it took all of Norway's willpower not to punch the Brit in the face. The poor Dane was entirely defenseless, so it was up to Norway to speak for him.

"We just explained it to you." He said coolly. "Did you not hear, Britain?"

"That's not what I meant, Norway." The blonde answered. "I mean, _how_ did this happen?"

Well, that was a problem. Norway actually had no idea how Denmark got laryngitis.

Instead of admitting it, though, he just said, "Why does that matter? It is most certainly not a bug, if that's what you're thinking."

"This is a problem," Germany spoke up next, blue eyes gazing intently at the Dane, "How can we incorporate him into our meetings if he cannot speak?"

"That is why we brought it up, Germany." Norway nodded, "We are not quite sure as to how to make this work."

"We should probably just get another representative." Netherlands said, looking a bit pensive. "No offence to Denmark or anything, but-"

"You can't just kick him out!" Much to everyone's surprise, it wasn't Norway who had spoken, but Prussia.

The red eyed nation glared angrily at the Dutch man who was sitting opposite to him.

"Why do you care?" Netherlands furrowed his brow. " _You_ were the one who was complaining about it moments ago."

"That's because I didn't get vhy he vasn't there in all our meetings." Prussia stared hard at him. "It's not his fault."

Norway blinked in surprise. Well, Prussia was different from what he had been led to believe. Not so narrow-minded after all, it seemed. Though, he had a feeling as to why the ex-nation had stood up for him.

"Anyways, does anyone have any ideas?" Finland finally spoke up, drawing everyone's attention to him. "We can't kick Denmark out; it shouldn't even be an option."

A lone hand rose slowly in the air.

Germany sighed. "No Italy, do not speak. Pasta will not work."

"Maybe we could help Denmark-san if we learn the cause first." Japan suggested. "The cause is usually the root of the problem."

"No, that makes no sense." France spoke up for the first time, surveying Denmark carefully. "We aren't trying zo cure it."

"That's his doctor's job." England said grudgingly, most likely because he was agreeing with the French nation. "We just need to come up with a solution to ease him into our meetings."

"I don't see why he can't be, aru." China spoke loudly. "He barely contributes anyways!"

"Yeah, but what about when he needs to present and stuff?" America argued, "He needs us to understand."

"What, you want all of us to learn sign language now?!" Romano fumed. "I'm not doing that, you bastard!"

"That's not what I asked for, you-"

"That's ENOUGH!" Germany stood up before America could charge down and sock the Italian in the face. "We will discuss this after a break of exactly 10 minutes. No dillydallying or sidetracking in any form, is that understood?!"

As the nations dispersed for their break, Norway turned to Denmark, who looked a bit queasy.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

Denmark nodded. _'It's just a bit weird, y'know, to see them arguing over me.'_

"Fools," Norway shook his head, "That's what they are: fools."

"Hey guys." Prussia slid in behind Denmark, nearly giving him a heart attack. "If you need any help, tell me. I'll kick everyone's-"

"It's okay, Prussia," Norway interrupted, smiling awkwardly, "Though I must thank you for the thought."

"Meh, vhatever," The Prussian waved it aside, before he looked solemn. "Besides, I knov vhat it's like. To…"

He shook his head, grinning once more. "Sorry about that. I'll see around?"

After exchanging an 'awesome' fist bump with Denmark, he left.

Norway shook his head. He didn't understand Denmark, or his friends, and it seemed he never would. One thing was bothering him, though; it was a subject that Denmark had been dancing around every time Norway had mentioned it to him.

"How did you get laryngitis?"

The cheerful grin that had adorned Denmark's face vanished, draining it of color.

"Every time I mention it, you start acting like you have seen a ghost." Norway continued, glancing over at the nation suspiciously. "Why is that?"

Denmark trembled, opening his mouth to answer, when Germany stormed in.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" He yelled, causing the nations in the room to calm down, and those outside to go in. "Thank you. Now, would anyone like to speak?"

Much to Norway's surprise, Iceland stood up. He never really liked being in the center of attention, so Norway couldn't see why he was suddenly so willing.

"I would like to say that we could take Denmark's opinion on this matter," Iceland spoke, on Germany's nod, "It would most likely help us in figuring out a solution. I am not sure why no one seems to have taken this into account, but I thought I should bring it up, regardless of any hesitancy on the parts of the other nations."

Iceland had really grown up.

Norway was not going to cry over it; he was not some sort of emotional caretaker. He just found it astounding that Iceland had so eloquently used his words to showcase his opinion on the whole matter. He blinked quickly, cursing the dust that had caused his eyes to tear up.

Denmark patted his arm, not looking hurt when Norway shrugged him off. He had probably expected it.

"Point noted." Germany nodded, before directing his gaze at Denmark. "Before you provide your account, please let me know who your translator will be."

The Dane pointed at Norway, as expected.

"Alright then," Germany nodded. "Please, go ahead."

' _Tell them I want them to stop staring.'_ Denmark signed at him furiously. _'It's unnatural.'_

"He asks you to stop staring." Norway spoke loudly, before dozens of head turned away immediately, some of them even whistling. "Okay, now what?"

' _Right, so, I want to keep my place, obviously. Do you think that you could just translate for me? I mean, even when I'm presenting and stuff. I don't want to have an official translator or anything, so…'_

"Alright, fine then." The Norwegian sighed. One day, he would call in the favor.

Once he had everyone's attention, he began to speak.

"Denmark's solution is quite simple, actually. He just asks that I translate for him even during his presentations."

"Is that fine by you?" Germany asked when no one raised an objection. "It may get quite tiring."

"I'll help." Finland said determinedly, Sweden grunting in agreement. "By our next meeting, I will have learned sign language."

America raised his eyebrows. "You sure? It ain't that easy."

"I can do it." Finland said stubbornly. "Nothing has ever been easy for us, but we've gotten through them, haven't we?"

"So it is decided then." Germany spoke. "Denmark will be assisted by Finland and Norway. Meeting dismissed."

' _That was odd,'_ Denmark signed. _'Meetings have never gone by so fast.'_

"Yes, I know." Norway agreed, just as Prussia bounded his way over.

"Hey Denmark!" He yelled. "I have something avesome to shov you! Come on!"

He yanked the laughing Dane away.

Norway shook his head, bending down to collect some papers left behind by Denmark when he had been dragged away. They must have fallen out of his satchel.

He narrowed his gaze when he saw that they seemed to be medical documents of some sort. Hesitating, he unfolded them, and glanced at the first one, before his eyes widened. It couldn't be…

His blood ran cold.


	13. Chapter 11

_Concerning..._

_Impossible..._

_Intriguing and highly..._

_Must be investigated..._

_...dealt with immediately..._

_Severe._

Norway stared at the paper in shock. Had Norway..?

He swallowed, guilt beginning to pool in the pit of his stomach at the thought. No…he couldn't have done that.

The diagnosis, however, dashed away any sense of righteousness that Norway had.

_'…as a result of the voice box being pressed against harshly and periodically…'_

It was Norway who had done that.

Norway continued staring at the piece of paper, held in his clenched fists, wondering what had gone wrong. He had never meant for this, he just… he never thought Denmark would face such a serious consequence. Norway had believed he was disciplining Denmark, and thought that, for someone of Denmark's caliber, strict enforcing would be required.

Something began to build up in his chest, maybe it was sorrow? Norway wasn't too sure anymore. Perhaps he was finally beginning to go insane, like how Scandinavia did a long time ago. Everything was just going too fast for him. He had no idea what he was supposed to do.

…What _could_ he do?

Biting his bottom lip to prevent the flood of tears that he knew would come, Norway pushed past a concerned Finland and a stoic-looking Swede, in a bid to get away from the Meeting room before any of the nations discovered his show of weakness.

Only when he reached the bathroom, did Norway cut loose. Tears began streaming from his eyes, carving a moist path down his cheeks, wetting the glossy granite counter. He didn't have the heart to care. He had already lost so much: how would it matter if the sink counter got wet?

Angrily wiping at the never-ending tears using a wad of paper towels, Norway cursed himself.

How could he have done that to Denmark? How could Norway have even _looked_ at Denmark after what he had done?

Norway was surprised that the Dane even spoke to him after the atrocious act he had committed. He wasn't deserving of the nation's affection, not when he had caused him so many difficulties.

Laughing bitterly, Norway sat himself on the chilly floor, though the cold did not affect him. He shuddered as he attempted to stop crying, but it only made him sob harder. Norway felt like a young child for crying so much, but the tears just wouldn't stop.

"Norway?" Looking up, Norway's eyes widened as he saw Prussia standing there, the ex-nation being slack-jawed. "Norway, what the hell happened?"

Norway quickly dried his tears, or what were left of them, not meeting the East German's ruby red eyes. He could barely trust himself to speak, but he tried anyways.

Getting up to his feet, he attempted to brush past Prussia, muttering a low, "Nothing, I'm fine."

"Bullshit." Prussia grabbed a hold of the Norwegian's arm, before slamming him into the bathroom wall by his shoulders. "That is the shittiest lie ever. Should I call Denmark?"

Norway could not hold back the violent flinch at the sound of Denmark's name. Prussia had, unfortunately heard the unspoken words: that something was definitely happening between him and Denmark, and his eyes softened just a bit.

"What's going on?" Prussia tried again, to no avail.

Norway, snapping out of his shock, began to struggle against his strong hold. "I told you, nothing's happening?"

"Oh yeah," Prussia snapped back. "That's why you were crying in the bathroom! My bad, I thought something was happening! After all, you normally go to the bathroom to sob your heart out, don't you?"

There was silence, as Norway and Prussia glared at each other, the albino still pinning the blonde to the wall.

"Let go of me." Norway finally grit out. "There is nothing going on, and if it were, it would not be of your concern."

"Norway?"

The Norwegian stiffened as he heard Finland's voice.

"Finland, tell Prussia to let go of me." He demanded strictly, hoping the Finnish man would obey.

Finland finally came into view, eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. Prussia didn't budge, much to Norway's displeasure.

"Prussia," Finland addressed him, "What on _earth_ are you doing?"

"He's hiding something." Prussia narrowed his eyes at Norway. "When I came here, he was sitting on the floor, crying like crazy."

When Finland's eyes widened, Norway knew there was no way he was getting out of the bathroom.

"Crying?" Finland parroted. "Norway was crying."

Norway's mouth suddenly grew dry, and he cast his eyes down as he spoke. "I was not crying."

"Yes you were, goddamn it!" Prussia countered irately. "I have perfect vision, thank you very much."

"Prussia, let go of him." Finland spoke suddenly, much to Norway's relief.

Rubbing his wrists which had grown sore, Norway froze when Finland spoke again. "You're not going _anywhere_ until you tell me what's going on, though."

Norway whirled around to glare at Finland.

"Nothing's going on, I already told _him_ that." Norway gestured rudely at Prussia. "Why does everyone keep asking me?"

"Anything that affects you affects Denmark too, _Norja_." Finland stepped closer, making Norway feel a bit uncomfortable. "I might just call him here."

"Are you threatening me?" Norway spat, unable to believe that _Finland_ of all countries was doing this.

"That depends."

The cool answer that he was given did nothing to ease Norway nerves.

"I…" Norway cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the harsh stare upon him, courtesy of Prussia. "I'm not quite sure how to tell you…"

"To the point would be nice." The Prussian finally spoke. "We don't want a long back-story."

Norway drew in a deep breath. "I caused Denmark's laryngitis."

Saying it out loud was a lot worse than thinking it, and it took all of Norway's willpower to not dissolve into tears once again. He was _Norway_ and he wouldn't act like a little girl, he told himself.

"W-what do you mean by that?" Finland's stunned voice brought Norway out of his musings. "How could y- _you_ have caused that?"

Norway took out the piece of paper he held in his pocket, handing it over to Finalnd.

"You caused Denmark's laryngitis?" Prussia spoke lowly. "Let me guess, you felt _terrible_ about that and chose to come cry over here, right?"

As Norway opened his mouth to counter him, he held up a hand.

"Why couldn't you have just spoken to Denmark?"

Norway gaped at him, thinking inwardly that Prussia truly _was_ an idiot. "You want me to _speak_ to him? Are you out of your mind?"

"No." Prussia said bluntly at the same time that Finland sighed heavily.

"Norway, I'm not sure what you're going to do." Finland said sadly. "It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is." Norway glowered at him. "Denmark will never want to speak to me again…and I cannot say that I blame him."

"Norway." Finland spoke, before quietly exiting the bathroom, "Don't mess this up."

Prussia soon followed after telling Norway, "I won't tell, but you'd better fix this."

Norway stood, alone in the bathroom, staring brokenly at his own reflection.


	14. Chapter 12

When Denmark came face-to-face with a pale Finland, he did not know what he was to expect.

Denmark had been sitting in the meeting room, bored out of his mind and wondering where Norway had gone off to in the few minutes he had left, when Finland had said he needed to get something.

Well, whatever he had gotten had evidently scared the wits out of him. Or maybe scarred him for life, Denmark was not too sure.

' _Hey, where's Norway?'_ He signed carefully, so that Finland could understand him. _'Is he coming?'_

At the mention of Norway, Finland's eyebrows drew together and his arms tightened.

"No, I'm not too sure." He said eventually, taking the seat across from Denmark.

' _Then where is he!'_ Denmark wanted to scream.

By then, most of the nations had filed into the meeting hall and had taken their seats, looking indifferent to Denmark's growing panic.

Sweden took the seat next to Finland, carefully taking a bite out of a bagel he had gotten from the tables of food outside. Iceland walked in, giving Denmark a hesitant smile which Denmark forcedly returned, taking a seat next to Hong Kong.

That stumped Denmark: since when had Iceland been hanging out with the Asians, much less Hong Kong?

Despite being bothered at the new development, Denmark was more concerned about the missing Norwegian. Just where had Norway gone? In all his years as a nation, Denmark could hardly ever recall a time where Norway had come in late to a meeting.

"G-going." He rasped out to Finland, who unfortunately did not hear him due to the loud intensity that the nations were speaking with. It did not help that the he was staring off into the distance, as though he was thinking hard about something.

Denmark huffed, rolling his eyes before slamming his hand down on the table to get Finland's attention. The blonde in question jumped suddenly, like he had gotten spooked. Normally Denmark would find the action hilarious, but…not then.

His hand throbbed, but he paid it no mind.

' _Norway.'_ He signed, because he had used his voice over the limit. _'I'm going to look for him. Do you know where he is?'_

Denmark knew Finland had no idea, but it did not hurt to ask again.

Finland looked hesitant at that, before speaking up, "I'm not too sure you should do that Denmark. I-I mean, the meeting's about to start! Norway will be fine!"

Denmark's eyes narrowed immediately. He was not _that_ dense.

' _Where is he?'_ He asked again, patience wearing thin. It was obvious that Finland knew where he was by the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It attracted the attention of Sweden.

"Wh't 's go'ng 'n?" He asked, staring hard at Denmark as though he had done something to Finland.

' _He knows where Norway is, and he isn't telling me.'_ The way he signed showed that he was getting infuriated. Sloppy and uncontrolled, it was evident that he was starting to lose control to his infamous temper.

Sweden's gaze shifted to Finland promptly, although it had softened quite a bit.

Favoritism was what it was…favoritism.

"I know where he went." Finland finally crumbled, putting his head down on the smooth surface of the table. "I know where he went, but…I can't tell you, _Tanska_."

He sounded upset, but Denmark was not concerned. Finland had Sweden, and why the hell could he _not_ tell him?!

' _What does that mean?'_ He signed forcefully, after forcing Finland's head up, to the displeasure of the only Swede present at the table.

The meeting was about to start when Finland looked up, eyes teary.

"He was in the bathroom," He hiccupped, as was his habit when he was about to cry. Sweden put a comforting arm around him, which was well accepted.

"He was crying. _Tanska_ ," Finland locked eyes with the shocked blue's that were Denmark's, " _Tanska_ , he knows about your laryngitis. He-he thinks it's h-his fault."

That was all it took for the Finnish man to collapse in tears, but Denmark couldn't move. He could only stare as Finland bawled into Sweden's suit, could only watch as surrounding nations began to gather near the distressed blonde; he could not _move_.

It was not until a hesitant hand was placed on his shoulder, that Denmark gained a hold on his senses. He stood up sharply, shaking the offending limb off of him, running immediately to the one place he had heard Finland mention, and ignoring the desperate calls that followed him from a well-known American.

' _Norway found out.'_ Was all that ran through his head as he ran hysterically, stumbling a few times as he did.

' _Norway found out.'_

' _Norway found out.'_

' _Norway found out.'_

Norway had figured it out…but how?

Denmark came to a sudden stop in front of the bathroom. Peering in cautiously, he entered, and cursed when he noticed the absence of the one person he had been looking for.

What he did notice, however, nearly put a stop to his erratically beating heart.

Papers were strewn all across the floor, some of them wet but the majority of them dry. With an increasing feeling of dread present in his gut, Denmark knelt silently next to a large stack of dry ones, picking one up and turning it over.

 _Rigshospitalet_ , it read.

Denmark held a trembling hand up to his mouth, dropping the piece of paper soundlessly. How had he not noticed that the medical files were missing? Why the hell did he bring them to the meeting in the first place?!

"D-damn it!" He coughed harshly into his fist, pressing a hand against his temple.

Taking out his phone, he quickly sent out a text.

_**MK: Norge, where r u?** _

There was a brief time of inactivity that had Denmark worrying that Norway would not answer. Finally, his screen lit up.

_**LB: Nowhere important, do not worry. How is the meeting?** _

Norway probably believed that Denmark did not know that he had found out. It made Denmark's heart twist uncomfortably at the fact that Norway would go so far as to lie about the whole thing.

_**MK: Don't lie, please. I know that you looked at my medical records.** _

There was no reply, even after Denmark sent five messages asking what was wrong. He sent another five that he did not blame him for any of it, that Denmark…that he loved Norway.

There was still no answer.

Unable to scream, he chucked his phone at the wall with an uncontainable rage, the normally-satisfying sound of the crash being completely ineffective.

He buried his head in his hands, drawing his knees up so that he could curl into a ball, hopefully disappearing for the rest of eternity. He raised it enough so that he could stare blankly at the wall silently, almost brokenly.

_For the second time that day…Denmark could not move._


	15. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Denmark stood shakily, supporting himself using the wall as a prop, and blinking the tears out of his eyes. He was no damsel in distress. He was _not_ going to cry.

Regardless of his thoughts, a lone tear carved its way down his pale, angular, face before it dripped down onto the ground.

He hastily rubbed his eyes, looking into the mirror and noting with sadness that his face appeared weary with exhaustion and his eyes bloodshot- most likely because of his tears. He stood silently for a few moments, breathing in and out heavily, trying to calm himself down.

Norway finding out: check. Denmark _not_ wanting for him to find out: check. Norway had reacting _horribly_ : check.

It seemed that there was no good way for him to look at it.

Briefly, Denmark wondered if things could get any worse. Perhaps they could. He was not sure what else could happen, but it was the way the world worked. What could go wrong would go wrong. There was no use fighting nature.

The door slowly opened, snapping Denmark out of his melancholy state, making him look up in shock at the blurry reflection of a tall albino.

“Denmark,” Prussia moved forward. “This is really vierd. I mean, I ran into Norway here, and now you.”

“N-” Denmark stopped himself, feeling a million shards pierce their way through his heart at his attempt to speak.

 _‘Norway came here, didn’t he?’_ Not waiting for the Prussian to reply, he continued, _‘I don’t know what to do.’_

The Prussian stared at him, making Denmark fidget uncomfortably.

“I have no idea vhat you just said.” He spoke after a few beats.

Denmark would have face palmed if he could, but the worry was eating away at him almost excruciatingly, as though chomping at his flesh.

What was he supposed to do now?

Then it hit him.

Determination showing through his glowing blue eyes, Denmark brushed past the surprised and protesting ex-nation, with only one destination on his mind. He would combat the odds, if it meant getting Norway back to how he was supposed to be: guilt-free and with a clear conscience. Though, they essentially meant the same thing.

“Denmark!” Finland cried as he saw him, and Denmark couldn’t smile, for he was too busy. He even ignored Iceland, who had tried to get his attention, though not on purpose. His sense of determination was far too strong, blinding him from the littlest of things that he would most definitely have noticed, had he been in a right state of mind.

Hastily making his way to his seat, Denmark quickly took out a mostly empty page from his file of unimportant statistics, well aware that the eyes of many nations were on him.

“What’s he doing?” He heard someone, Romania perhaps, whispering to the neighbor.

“Has he finally lost it?” It was France this time, for sure. Denmark could recognize his voice anywhere.

“Bro, what’s wrong?” America approached him, though Denmark paid him no heed, continuing to search frantically in his bag for a pen. The blonde seemed to understand, as he pulled out a pen from his pocket with a flourish and handed it to Denmark.

He hastily scrawled on the page: _I need to find Norway. I think he’s at the hotel, and I need someone to come with me._

The room was silent after America read out the words. From the corner of his eye, Denmark could see that even Sweden and Finland seemed unwilling to assist him. He was about to lose all hope, when a voice broke through:

“I’ll go with you.”

It was Iceland.

 

Denmark tried not to betray his emotions, though they flashed through his eyes. He was so, _so_ relieved that someone, _anyone_ , had come to help him in his time of need.

“I’ll go,” Iceland repeated, brow furrowed, “Though I cannot understand why Norway has left.”

Denmark’s face fell. He did not have the time to explain. Luckily for him, America seemed to sense this, because he said that Denmark would explain it to Iceland on the way to the hotel.

He and Iceland speed walked to the hotel lobby, where a kind receptionist offered to hail a cab for them, no doubt because of their frenzy. Denmark could not find it in him to express his gratefulness, although Iceland managed to fit in a nod, so similar to that of Norway, before he had to haul him off.

As they settled in the cab, Iceland brokenly giving the cabbie the directions to their hotel, Denmark grabbed a pencil and a paper from his satchel, and began to write the story of the end of his life. A bit dramatic, perhaps, but it could very well prove true. He could practically _feel_ the gaze of the Icelandic nation on him as he wrote, but he did not stop until he finished his paragraph-long explanation.

He wrote:

_‘You know how I had laryngitis? Yeah, well, when I went to meet my doctor, he said that it was caused because of the pressure exerted on my throat. This obviously leads to Norway, because he’s the one who always chokes me with my tie…but it’s not his fault! I tried to keep it from him because I knew he would do something like this and feel guilty for something that was way out of his control. ~~If I had any self-preservation I would have stopped~~ I didn’t want him to feel bad, but I guess it didn’t work because he found out by accident and completely freaked. As I said before, I didn’t want to tell you guys, especially because of this. I knew that all of you would react badly.’_

 

Denmark watched, with rapt attention, as Iceland slowly read his words, amethyst eyes travelling carefully along the page, silver brows furrowing the lower his eyes travelled. Denmark was beginning to get a bad feeling in his gut, though could not say anything. He startled when Iceland smashed down his fist on the paper, crumpling it considerably, and met his gaze with shock.

“I will _kill_ him for this.”

Denmark stared at him before it clicked.

_No, no, no…that wasn’t what he had hoped for!_

He had not wanted to turn Iceland against Norway and rip away any chances at the brothers re-bonding; he had only wanted for him to understand the situation and, in fact, make up with Norway!

 _‘No, don’t do that.’_ He wrote hastily. _‘Please Iceland, it’s not his fault. He didn’t know.’_

“Regardless,” Iceland glared stonily, “He should not have choked you in the first place.

 _‘None of you were complaining then.’_ Denmark thought inwardly. _‘Why would it matter now?’_

Unable to express his feelings on paper, he reached out to clasp Iceland’s chilly fingers with his own warm ones, squeezing them softly and shaking his head.

 _‘Please don’t say anything.’_ He mouthed desperately at him. _‘Please.’_

Iceland continued glaring at him, expression unfaltering.

“No,” He said finally, “I _will_ say something to my brother. This has gone entirely too far. How dare he react so crudely when you face so many problems of your own?”

Uncaring of Denmark’s heartbroken expression, Iceland continued, “I will say something to him, whether you like it or not. It is about time I knocked some sense into him anyhow.”

Iceland grabbed Denmark’s limp hand and held onto it in a bruising tight grip.

“He will come to regret his actions.”


	16. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Denmark closed his eyes in trepidation, as Iceland led him down the carpeted hallway. It was equivalent to him being both blind _and_ dumb, as though the latter had not been enough. It was also really strange considering that _Iceland_ was leading _Denmark_ to his room.

The hallway, when he had glanced at it, seemed the same as when he had left it. The soft red carpet remained clean, and the ornate glass vase holding a variety of exotic flowers still remained in its spot on a tall coffee table.

“I-Ice,” Denmark coughed desperately, feeling a little disappointed when the Icelandic did not acknowledge his words, “W-wait!”

His throat burned painfully, as though acid was creeping up his windpipe, but he had no other choice. Iceland was in no position to listen to him if he tugged his hand away. The body part in question, in fact, was beginning to grow numb, so it was a relief when Iceland let go of his hand and waited impatiently.

“What is it, Denmark?” He snapped impatiently, looking coldly at his fellow Nordic. “Hurry up.”

Denmark was beginning to think that Iceland had other reasons for wanting to chew out Norway… maybe because of his blatant refusal to tell Iceland about Denmark’s problem…

“Let’s go.” He was interrupted from musings, as Iceland glared at him heatedly.

Despite his reluctance, Denmark forced his legs to move in order to follow Iceland to his room. In no time at all, the oak door with the elegantly scripted numbers arrived, tall and foreboding.

“Well?” Iceland said crossly. “Aren’t you going to knock?”

Denmark stared in apprehension at the door, hesitantly raising his fist to knock, when he shoved aside.

“You know what? I will do it myself.”

Denmark tried to quash the growing hurt inside him as Iceland rapped the door with his knuckles precisely thrice. There was no point if he felt that way; no one would care, especially because he was, well, _Denmark_. No one really thought much of him, and he could hardly blame them.

There was a brief silence, in which Denmark fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. It was still strange for him to not feel a comfortable presence around his neck, so he had taken to playing with other parts of his apparel. Iceland just stood and stared at the door, as though it would miraculously disintegrate.

Though that did not happen, something that was equivalent did. The door swung open to reveal a pale, tired Norwegian, with pink-rimmed blue eyes…

Denmark’s heart lurched nastily. Had Norway been crying?

 

Upon seeing the two nations, Norway’s eyes widened, and he immediately sought to close the door, though his attempt at relieving himself of their presence was futile because of Iceland, who had pushed the door open further and stormed his way in.

Denmark had to appreciate the younger nation’s guts, no matter his apparent lack of subtlety.

“I-Iceland,” Norway’s voice cracked almost embarrassingly, before he cleared his throat. “What do you think you are doing?”

“The better question would be: what do you think _you_ are doing?” Iceland spat. “Denmark, get in here.”

The Danish nation was beginning to get a little ticked off with the younger nation’s behavior, but obliged anyways, because that was what he had planned to do anyways. Stepping inside the plainly decorated room, he could not help the feeling of apprehension that suddenly bubbled in his chest at the sight of Norway, who was pointedly avoiding Denmark’s gaze.

His heart panged.

 

“Norway, I-Denmark would like an explanation as to _why the hell_ you left him!” Iceland was losing his calm, not that he possessed much in the first place. Denmark was beginning to see the cracks in his façade, and really did not wish to see Iceland in his true form, ex-Viking or not.

His Viking past had always been a bit of a sore point for Denmark. Honestly though, who could blame him? A glorious past was replaced by a mundane present: nothing much to say there. Though, Denmark was extremely grateful that he had been shaken out of his murderous rage. The past had been filled with too much conflict, too much angst, and too much innocent blood.

“Calm down.” Norway stated piercingly. “You act as though he is some estranged wife of mine.”

“In this case, it very well may be that,” Iceland muttered under his breath, before speaking more forcefully, “ _You_ had no right to leave him like that. Despite your pitiful attempt at masking it, I can tell guilt when I see it _brother_.”

Norway flinched back violently, as though he had been slapped, though he soon recovered and glared spitefully at Iceland.

“Guilt?” Norway nearly screeched, taking Denmark by surprise because Norway simply never _screeched_ , “You are calling _me_ guilty?”

“Are you insinuating that _I_ am?” Iceland stalked forward so that he was nose to nose with his equally short sibling.

 

Denmark briefly wondered whether he should step in, but one look at the savagery of the two brothers, and their livid gazes, he decided to sit this one out. He was not going to risk castration or something equally worse.

His hand twitched reflexively.

Besides, how would he interrupt? There was literally no way Denmark could cut through their current conversation. Imagining it was terrifying in itself:

_“I never said any such thing!”_

_“I should rip your eyes out and feed them to my puffin!”_

_“You wouldn’t dare! I’ll make sure that my dog eats it and poops it out as fertilizer!”_

_“You wouldn’t dare!”_

_“Hey, um, guys?” Denmark signed awkwardly, “How’s the weather doing lately?”_

No. No chance of Denmark intervening.

 

Denmark had to figure a way out of the impedingly awkward situation.

“Perhaps you should leave.” Norway said quietly, stepping back.

“W-what?” Iceland seemed surprised by this sudden retreat. “What did you say?”

Denmark felt an ugly feeling in his chest, almost as though he was suffocating. Norway had never backed down from a fight, especially if his pride was on the line.

“I said that you should leave.” Norway looked up, speaking louder than he had the first time.

 _‘Norge.’_ Denmark took this as an opportunity to sign at him, though it was becoming increasingly difficult when Norway constantly looked away. _‘Please don’t be angry.’_

Norway did not move to answer, and Denmark was about ready to give up.

“Listen to him.” Iceland growled, and Denmark really wanted to cry. Why wouldn’t Norway listen?

 

Norway sighed and made himself comfortable on a study chair, adjusting his clothes and dusting off imaginary lint. At least he had not lost himself.

“Alright,” He sighed, eyes a steely blue, as he gestured at Denmark to continue.

Any other nation would have been insulted with Norway’s treatment of them, but not Denmark. No, Denmark was grateful that Norway had bothered to pay him some attention and immediately prepared to narrate his tale.

However, Iceland was _not_ Denmark.

“Why do you act as though Denmark has done something wrong?” Iceland spat venomously.

 _‘Because I have, you just cannot see it.’_ Denmark’s mind unconsciously supplied, and the nation in question screwed shut his eyes and grimaced. It was not the time to think like that. He was not _pitiful_ , he would not _think that way-_

“I changed my mind.” Norway replied firmly.

 _‘No!’_ Denmark signed as frantically as he could. _‘No…I need to explain.’_

“You do.” Norway affirmed, though Denmark could have sworn he saw…was it guilt? In his eyes, that is. Why would Norge feel that way?

 _‘I know you saw the papers from Rigshospitalet.’_ Denmark took in a deep breath, before plowing onwards. _‘And I am extremely sorry for not telling you. I could not, you see: how would I do it?’_

“By not hiding it from me,” Norway’s voice turned cold, a bad sign. He had sounded almost similar when Denmark had informed him of Denmark’s surrender in the Second World War, though there had hardly been a fight…

“Maybe, you could have told me in the first place.” Norway intoned in the silence.

“What’s going on?” Iceland cut in. “I don’t understand a _thing_ you’re saying!”

“Shut up, Iceland.” Norway’s eyes locked onto Denmark’s baby blues. “Let him continue.”

“You were the one who interrupted in the first place.” Iceland muttered petulantly, though he conceded.

“Continue.” Norway addressed Denmark, completely ignoring Iceland, and though Denmark thought it to be a bit rude, he did not complain.

 _‘Yes, anyways, I thought you would freak out.’_ Denmark signed, adding a mental _‘And I was right’_ to make himself feel better.

_‘I wanted to tell you, honestly, but I was going to wait until the meeting was over.’_

A lie, but Denmark _would_ have told Norway eventually…or maybe not.

“You-“Norway sighed, before pinching the bridge of his nose and looking at Iceland, “Iceland, go downstairs or something.”

“What?! But-“

“ _N_ ow. _”_

 _“No!_ ”

“Iceland…”

“Fine, but if _anything_ happens when I’m gone-“

“Yes, you can pretend that you could kill me. Now _go_.”

“ _Fine_.”

Iceland disappeared after the mini ‘war of words’, though reluctantly, Denmark could see. It seemed that no matter how angry Iceland was at Norway, a small part of him would always wilt in the face of Norway’s death glare…though Denmark could hardly blame him.

Only when the door was shut, did Norway continue with whatever he was saying.

“You-“ His hands were shaking, Denmark noted with a mild interest, “You should have _told me in the FIRST PLACE!_ ”

In almost no time at all, Denmark felt all the air rush out of his lungs as he head collided painfully against something so hard that he could almost see stars. A soft sound left his lips, a sound of pain and surprise mixed well together, a sign that Denmark was not very prepared for such a reaction.

Norway stared up at Denmark, at his shoulder level, piercingly hostile.

“I know when you are lying, _Danmark_ , I don’t need it.” He hissed, taking advantage of the fact that Denmark was clearly too stunned to react. “A _fool_ could see that you would not have told me at _all_ , if you had that opportunity…and I can only thank the Gods that you did not get it.”

“N-Norge,” Denmark managed to rasp, relieved to see that his chest did not hurt too much.

“Shut up, _dum_.” Norway hissed. “I don’t care for your brainless excuses. You hid the truth from me, and I am obviously not very happy. Did _Finland_ know before me?”

Confused, Denmark stared at the Norwegian. _Finland?_

Norway must have sensed the confusion in his posture, which must have also alerted him of the fact that he pinned Denmark to the wall…but he did not move.

“Good, that means you are not heartless yet.” Norway murmured to himself, before stepping back, _finally_.

Denmark tried really hard not to let the comments get to him, but it was especially difficult because it was _Norway_ who was saying this to him; his greatest friend. And despite Denmark’s affections, the blonde continued to insult him, which could only mean that…

“Leave, Denmark.” Norway said finally. “I have nothing left to say to you.”

He turned around, and Denmark caught the faintest glimmer in his eyes. He launched himself to his feet, grabbing a hold of Norway’s pale, thin wrist, turning him back to face him.

“ _L-Lukas._ ” Denmark coughed, trying to show Norway just _how_ important this was to him. “ _P-please._ ”

“What did you call me?” Norway softly demanded. “Tell me, _Mathias_. Why did you have to go and do that?

“After all,” Norway continued with a sigh, “This entire thing was my fault-Don’t speak again, Denmark.”

The last few words issued a warning, and Denmark could only shut his mouth and listen.

“Anyways, where was I? Yes, this was entirely my fault. If I had not behaved so violently, perhaps you could still speak,” Norway’s fists clenched until they were white. “Perhaps, we may not have had to isolate ourselves from each other for a _month_. Perhaps we would have all been united.

“Regardless, it has happened. And no, Denmark, I am not angry at you. You _stupid_ oaf, how could you think that? Have you lost your mind?”

Norway whispered at last, “I have no idea what came over me…I am sorry. I should not have hurt you.”

A small, glistening, droplet dripped from his eyes, down his eyelashes, sliding down his pale cheek, as Norway bit his lip inconspicuously.

Denmark moved forward unwittingly, unconsciously wrapping his long arms around the Norwegian’s slighter form, blinking back his own tears.

Norway turned slightly, to accommodate himself better in the Dane’s hold, closing his eyes as his tears soaked the Dane’s soft coat.


	17. Chapter 15

Of course, no moment so intimate could last long for any of the Nordics.

Iceland had had enough of waiting for them, and had barged in on the little scene, gaping and floundering.

“W-what?” He gasped. “Have you lost your _minds_?! You were about to punch the lights out of each other before I left, I could _feel_ it!”

“Well, then your _feeling_ was wrong.” Norway replied mildly, coughing in order to rid his throat of dryness, before stepping quickly and neatly away from Denmark and carefully dabbing at his cheeks with a handkerchief he produced from his coat pocket.

It was almost as though the past few minutes had not occurred, but Denmark was no fool. He knew Norway, whether the latter liked it or not. It was probably embarrassing for the Nordic.

“In any case,” Norway continued, snapping Denmark out of his thoughts, “You may go inform Sweden and Finland of my imminent return, and warn them that we must tell Sealand soon.”

His jaw tightened imperceptibly. “We do not want a repeat of what happened here with you, Iceland.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when you didn’t tell _me_.” Iceland grouched under his breath and, luckily for him, Norway did not notice. There was no doubt that, if he did, Iceland would have been on the receiving end of a _long_ lecture.

Once he had left the room, Norway cleared his throat. “Er, what just happened…never happened.”

It confirmed Denmark’s earlier suspicions, especially because Norway was acting extremely awkwardly. He ignored the slight sting that his friend’s words caused, and smiled instead.

_‘Are we going back to the conference?’_

There was a brief silence before Norway finally spoke. “No, I believe we should remain here.”

_‘But you just told Iceland-“_

“I can just call him, can’t I?” The blonde’s voice still sounded dry.

 _Right. Denmark had forgotten that everyone else could still use phones to talk_.

“Hello? Yes, Iceland, it seems that…”

The Norwegian’s voice slowly faded out as Denmark lost himself to his thoughts. He could still text and stuff, but it was difficult for him. It was usually because it was uncomfortable to type into the small digital keyboards that phones offered, and Denmark honestly could not be bothered to get a large phone. How could he possible carry that around in his pocket?

So many troubles were caused by one mistake…

He unconsciously brought his hand up to massage his throat, near where his voice box would be. It was sort of comforting to him, to be able to tell himself that at least he _had_ one, and there was a slight chance of recovery…even though it was slim. It made everything seemed a little brighter. Denmark had spent _days_ in the dark and he _never_ wanted to go back.

“All done,” Norway said in satisfaction, clearing his throat again, and rubbing at his eyes softly. “Iceland was…not pleased with the change in plans, but I managed to convince him it was needed.”

Denmark could imagine _exactly_ how Iceland might have responded to that.

 _‘He’s grown up, hasn’t he?’_ Denmark signed, smiling when he saw Norway’s eyes widen.

“I suppose…” Norway said, looking away, before sighing. “I don’t think I ever considered that he would question me…”

Denmark blinked in surprise.

“I mean,” Norway’s voice grew a little louder, “When he was a child, he would always try to do what I did. Now? Now, he is trying to do the _exact opposite_.”

Denmark shifted uncomfortable, before deciding to take a seat. He really was not the best candidate for Norway to spill out his little insecurities to. He kept silent, not wanting to stop him, not sure if he _could_ even if he desired to.

“I tried to be understanding, and it blew up in my face.”

_Actually, that wasn’t really what happened…_

“And worst of all, he does not even apologize!” Norway slumped down on one of the sofas. “I just…I am only letting this go because we would likely ignore each other for _years_ if none of us would say something.”

Then, Denmark’s phone buzzed, completely ruining the atmosphere.

Swiping his thumb across the surface to unlock the phone, Denmark read a message from Finland, saying that they were on their way. It seemed pretty quick, especially considering traffic conditions, but Denmark paid no mind. It was probably one of those rare good days.

“What is it?” Norway motioned at the phone.

 _‘Finland and Sweden are coming soon.’_ Then, he scrunched his nose, _‘That sounded like a movie thing didn’t it? Like, a movie coming soon to theatres?’_

Norway sighed, though the briefest hints of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Denmark, be serious. We need to decide on what to do now. We only decided on the plan to tell the other nations, which went a bit differently from what I had imagined, I must admit.

“Furthermore,” He raised his hand when Denmark moved to speak, making the older nation frown unhappily. “We need to make sure that they do not replace you as the representative of Denmark. I need someone who can actually strategize.”

Oh yes. Denmark had forgotten about that little fact in the whole mess. He had been too busy panicking over Norway’s reaction.

It still struck him as odd that Norway’s behavior did a 180. First, he had been angry and self-loathing (which Denmark felt was undeserved) and the next second, he went back to normal.

 _‘Thanks.’_ Denmark remembered to reply sarcastically. _‘So what’s your plan?’_

“That will be discussed when the others arrive.”

For about fifteen minutes, roughly, Denmark had to flip through some random magazine written entirely in Japanese. Despite being expected to know many languages, Denmark could not understand most Asian languages. If anything, he knew German-based languages, a little Russian and Spanish and, of course, the languages of his fellow Nordics. When it came to speaking Asian languages…well, needless to say, his accent was _pretty bad_ , so he tried to stay away from them.

He was beginning to regret that.

Norway, on the other hand was calmly reading some random Norwegian book he had brought with him, like a smart individual would.

“You aren’t reading a thing, are you?” Norway asked loftily as he turned a page.

Denmark chose not to reply, and was saved by the doorbell.

 _Saved by the Doorbell, starring the Nordics_.

“Hello!” Finland grinned at Denmark, who held the door open. Sweden followed his ‘wife’, stoic mask still in place, with Iceland grumpily trailing behind him complaining about his puffin.

Speaking of the thing, where had it gone?

Norway still sat on the sofa with the book in his lap, but got up when the new entrants sat on the couches, placing his book on a small table.

“Y’ c’lled?” Sweden finally spoke, cutting to the chase.

“Yes,” Norway nodded, though that was obvious. “Did Iceland tell the both of you anything?”

At the shake of their heads, he sighed and looked over at his biological brother, who scowled back.

“Well, to put it simply, I believe we need to let Sealand know about things.”

Sweden and Finland both tensed, ready to jump up, but Norway ploughed on, as Denmark took a seat where he had sat previously.

“Look, has Sealand _never_ asked the two of you why Denmark no longer visits? As I happen to recall, the idiot always visits the two of you every month.”

Finland looked angry, but Sweden mumbled that what Norway said _was_ true.

“No!” Finland said stormily. “There is no way I’ll expose Peter to this!”

“F’nl’nd,” Sweden tried to be placating. “H’ll g’t h’rt ‘f we d’nt t’ll h’m.”

“No he won’t!” Finland said, furiously. “There’s no way!”

Denmark tried to look unaffected. He loved Sealand, he really did, but he could see where Finland was coming from. He likely would not have wanted his kid to spend time around a useless nation too.

“You should tell him.” Iceland spoke up suddenly. “I was pretty upset with Norway not telling me about the matter immediately. Since you guys have kept it hidden for so long, I am guessing that Sealand would be more than a little upset. You would not want that, would you?”

Finland flinched violently at that, just as Norway did, chocolate brown eyes filling with tears as he sat back. Sweden silently put his arm around the smaller blonde’s shoulders, a grave look in his dark blue eyes.

“So, it is decided.” Norway looked directly at Finland and Sweden. “When do you plan on telling him?”

The two of them looked at each other, before Finland spoke up.

“We’ll tell him soon after we reach home. I just…” He took in a deep breath. “I just hope that it goes well.”

“I’m sure it will,” Norway assured, before he frowned. “Will Denmark need to be present with you?”

“I’m not sure.” Finland said hesitantly. “It could make things better, but it might also make things much worse.”

Denmark shook his head frantically, trying to tell them that _no, they weren’t supposed to take him, he couldn’t face Sealand_ …

“N’,” Sweden said decisively, making Denmark breathe out a silent sigh of relief, though at the same time, it made him feel a little empty.

“D’nm’rk c’n g’ h’me.”

Well, yes that was what Denmark would do, obviously. And since Norway would be there, everything would be fine.

“What about you, Norway?” Finland asked, trying to compose himself.

“I’ve decided to return to Norway.” He said firmly, making Denmark’s heart come to a screeching halt. “I forgot to tell you this, Denmark, but my boss has ordered me to return. Of course, I managed to convince him to let me visit you in about two weeks, so it will be fine…”

Whatever else Norway had to say was lost to Denmark.

If…If Norway was not going to be there, then what would become of Denmark? How would he be able to cope, all alone in the large, silent home? He had no one to interact with, and couldn’t even speak to himself. Denmark could not imagine a _day_ without Norway… _two weeks_ would be absolute _torture_.

Denmark had thought to himself _only minutes ago_ , that he wanted to enjoy the light, but it seemed that he would be in the dark yet again, with only himself. He would have to deal with the loneliness, being all by himself, spending time with his most hated person.

Above all, Denmark absolutely _hated_ the silence.


	18. Chapter 16

Denmark sighed, staring at the white ceiling above him, which was dotted with a few stains that looked to be made by coffee. He turned over in his bed, unwilling to leave his comfortable cocoon of warmth. He gripped the dark red blanket closer to himself, almost swaddling himself with it. A tiny glance towards the worn wooden door removed any doubt from the mind of the Danish nation.

He was _not_ going to open that door.

 

It had been almost 5 days that he had spent like this: staying in his bed, staring at the door, wondering if he should open it, then chickening out. He couldn’t keep this up for long, he knew, but somehow, it helped for him to stay away from the downstairs area.

When he had first entered his house, _god_ , he had wanted to run for the hills. It was so sad and dark and boring without Norway, Sweden Finland, Iceland- his _family_ \- there. It was so silent; all he could hear were his own footsteps, his own raspy breathing, just _him_.

It was driving him absolutely _crazy_.

He hadn’t eaten for days, due to him not leaving his room, but he _did_ find a packet of chips under his bed. Maybe it was expired- Denmark honestly didn’t know for sure- but he had been hungry, so had gobbled it down.

Finland and Sweden had not told Sealand yet; a fact known by Denmark only due to a suddenly helpful Iceland. Why the silver-haired nation was assisting him was not known to Denmark, though he was grateful, really.

Norway had not called since they had separated at the airport five days ago. It had mentally torn the Dane’s heart apart, the parting had, but he could only smile tightly and nod as his greatest friend and ally left him standing alone.

Denmark was aware that he was being extremely bull-headed, in a word. Not eating was something completely new for him, but he was not going to get an eating disorder or anything, he was sure of it. He _really_ wanted to eat; actually, he just did not want to leave his room.

Sighing, he stretched out his arms and winced when his toes peeked out from under his blanket, getting hit by the sudden chilliness of the air.

 _‘Well,’_ He thought sarcastically, _‘Time to get up.’_

Denmark was one of those people who, once cold, could not go back to sleep again, no matter how hard they tried.

He reluctantly got up, swinging his legs off the bed. Staggering towards his bathroom, Denmark nearly tripped over an abandoned satchel, cursing loudly at it. Well, as loudly as he could, considering he really had no voice.

Denmark had, quite stupidly, tried to talk during the past few days, just to override the unbearable lack of noise (and maybe get his voice back in the process). Needless to say, it did not really work out and his throat was sorer than ever.

Denmark had never really realized just _how much_ he depended on Norway.

 

After brushing his teeth, Denmark walked over to his bookshelf, inspecting his collection. Despite popular belief, Denmark was literate and could read _just fine_ , but everyone seemed to be all about stereotypes, so he decided to let it slide. Denmark certainly was not the sharpest tool in the box, but it did not mean he was completely dim-witted.

Smiling when his eyes came to rest on the ‘Harry Potter’ books, all translated into Danish, Denmark chose the fifth book. It was actually his most favorite of the seven, though his favorite character just _had_ to die. Sirius Black reminded the Dane of himself, actually; a lonely person stuck in the past, trying his hardest to grin through the pain and move forward.

Reading had become a habit of his during his time alone; it helped him kill time without realizing, making him unaware of his hunger.

As he settled down on his bed to begin reading, he was startled by a loud crash and jumped to his feet. His stomach turned to lead, weighing him down as he processed his newly-broken window. Though the curtains were draw shut, Denmark _knew_ it was broken because of the shards of glass scattered on the floor near that area.

He yanked his curtains open, wincing at the appearance of his window, opening his mouth to belt out a sentence (that many mothers would disapprove of) to the shocked children who stared at his windows in shock, but suddenly recoiled.

They were _children_.

Besides, he could not even yell. So instead, he just let go of his anger and smiled softly at the two children, who grinned back excitedly. Denmark surmised that they were just happy that he was not going to yell at them for playing ball in front of his house instead of theirs.

Denmark really adored children; they were all smiles and happiness and innocence…all qualities that he had not had for _centuries_. It was rather nostalgic, actually, when he saw children, because they would only remind him of his days with his brothers, memories that were almost completely faded…when they used to go out on ‘adventures’ to conquer the world, in their childish glory.

He was yanked out of his thoughts rather forcefully when his doorbell was rung, making him glance fearfully towards the door.

He was not _ready_ to face the world yet.

The bell was rung again, this time more insistently, if it were possible.

Well, Denmark was not ready for the world, but the world was certainly ready for him to come out. Thanking the high heavens that he did not sleep in his pajamas the previous night, Denmark breathed in sharply, before walking over to the intimidating entrance or, rather, exit as quickly as he could, before flinging it open.

He nearly bolted downstairs, like a frightened child running from the so-called wolves, desperate to reach the door without breaking apart. He peeked through the peephole, surprised to see it was the two kids who had rung his doorbell.

He opened the door cautiously, wondering _why on earth_ those two kids ended up at his door. What did they want?

“Hello!” One of the boys, a dark-haired one, waved excitedly at him and Denmark could not help but give a small smile.

“We, um, wanted to say ‘thank you’ for not yelling at us.” The other child, auburn-haired, spoke up shyly.

“So thanks!” The first boy completed. “I’m Mads, and this is Felix, and we’re nine years old!”

“I can introduce myself Mads!” Felix protested weakly, though he smiled.

Denmark really _was_ good with children, it was just…he did not know how to manage himself around them without his voice. It was his stories that usually drew children to him, and now that he was left without, Denmark was at a loss.

Apparently, even Mads had figured something was wrong.

“Are you okay, Sir?” He asked curiously, azure eyes tinged with an innocence that Denmark had long forgotten.

“Yeah, you’re being really quiet.” Felix looked at him worriedly- well, as worriedly as a 9-year old could. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” Denmark forced himself to say in a raspy voice, but immediately regretted it when he saw the stricken expressions of the children’s faces.

 _‘Great,’_ His inner voice whispered to him, _‘they’re going to run away now, all because you couldn’t keep your stupid gob shut.’_

To his surprise, however, the kids got closer to him.

“You can’t talk?!” This time it was Felix who spoke first, his words almost fretting, just like Finland.

“How…how do you survive, Mister?” Mads stared at him with open shock.

Ah, the youth. Blissfully unaware of social obligations and, more importantly, manners.

It was still refreshing though, when their statements hit him in the face with an unmatchable bluntness. Denmark felt that the world needed some honesty, no matter how brutal the truth.

He smiled as kindly as he could without flinching at the question, bending down to ruffle the kid’s messy hair. He smirked when he heard the child’s yelp, and silently laughed with Felix.

 _‘It’s alright.’_ He mouthed slowly, so that they could understand. Felix repeated what he was saying to make sure they got it right, and Denmark thought to himself that this duo would undoubtedly achieve something great together.

 _‘I used to talk all the time, really.’_ He mouths ruefully. _‘No matter whether people wanted me to, I would talk. And it was pretty funny too, because they would always get super angry at me.’_

“But what happened?” Mats all but demanded. “What happened to your voice?”

_‘Well, I got really sick. Then my voice disappeared.’_

“You won’t get it back?!” This time, Felix.

Denmark shrugged. _‘It doesn’t matter anymore. I can still make people laugh, can’t I?’_

To emphasize his point, Denmark proceeded to make a wide range of faces that wouldn’t be theoretically possible, but he was _Denmark_. Theory was nothing, compared to his might.

His efforts paid off when the two kids giggled, and Denmark’s heart grew considerably warmer when they bid him farewell, saying that they would be back soon.

It was then that he looked- _really looked_ \- outside, breathing in the fresh, crisp air that the morning had to offer, watching his people ( _his people_ ) walk outside hurriedly, seemingly unmindful of the constant weather problems that were plaguing their country (all because of Denmark).

His face fell as he realized that he was sitting at home, stuck in a quicksand of his own making, while others continued with their lives despite what their circumstances might be. And it was with conviction that Denmark decided that, if he could not bear his house and its silence, then he would spend his time with his people, just like how he used to…almost like a new beginning.

After all, if the children could see past his flaws, why could the others not?


	19. Chapter 17

Denmark stared outside, longingly, stretching himself as he did. He had decided to clean his house up that day; Norway had done it a while back, but it had gotten messy again. Denmark, contrary to popular belief, was no slob. He liked things to be somewhat neat and no, he was _not_ a neat-freak. That was more Prussia’s thing. He just liked to _not_ trip over his stuff.

Sighing gloomily, Denmark began to fold some more of his clothes, wincing when he realized that every article of clothing was practically the same color, well… _colors_.

Black, red, black, red, black…it went on and on and _on_.

Denmark had never really thought about trying on different colors before. Maybe this no-speaking thing was actually good for him?

Just as fast as the thought came, he shook his head, dispelling all traces of it.

 _No, it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t_.

This was bad. He _had_ to fix himself. He was coping, but…it wasn’t enough. He had to get rid of _it_.

Denmark looked outside yet again, checking his phone for the time.

Norway had said he would be coming to Denmark’s house that day, and was currently on the way in a cab. Needless to say, the Dane had been excited.

Denmark smiled softly. _Excitement_ …it had been a while since he felt that way, with flushed cheeks, tingling skin, quickening breaths…

He sighed. Well, he had left that behind a long time ago, instead focusing on doing what the rest of the nations did. The economy, education, health…he had stopped caring about himself after all of these matters popped up.

His phone buzzed, lighting up in time with the vibrations.

Denmark bit his lip. Someone was calling him? Everyone knew that he couldn’t exactly answer the phone, and this was definitely not a marketing call because those had been blocked by his boss…so who was it?

Swallowing, he swiped his thumb to answer the call.

“Hello?” He choked out, voice raspy, fingers massaging his throat gently.

 _“Uncle Denmark!”_ Denmark’s eyes widened, _“Finally! You have no idea how long it took for me to get your number!”_

“Sealand,” Denmark whispered brokenly once he realized what was happening, “You shouldn’t be calling me right now…”

 _“Eh?”_ Sealand sounded confused. _“Why not?”_

“I’m not feeling well,” Denmark’s fingers moved more quickly, as he noticed a cab drive up in front of his gate. “If I talk to you, then you’ll get sick too. Got to go, okay? Bye, I love you.”

_“Eh? But, Uncle Den-“_

His phone beeped sadly as he put it down.

Denmark blinked rapidly as he shakily stood up, feeling a stinging sensation behind his eyes. He took in a deep breath, felt his chest expand, and let the air out slowly. There was no use in telling Sealand, especially if Finland and Sweden had not done so…

He sniffled a little, feeling pathetic, when the bell rang. Quickly rubbing at his eyes, and wiping his nose, Denmark bolted to the door. Just as he was about to open it, his hand stopped on the cool surface of the doorknob.

He breathed in, and out, and in, and out…

He flung open the door to meet cold blue eyes…eyes that he had so desperately missed and craved.

 _“Norge,”_ He nearly tried to say, but caught himself. His throat still burned and, besides, Norway would have killed him if he had tried to speak.

“ _Dum_ ,” Norway nodded at him, stepping inside like he owned the place.

Denmark noticed that the Norwegian dropped his bag near the door ( _Norway had never done that_ ) and gave an inaudible squeal when he feels Norway’s hand on his shoulder.

“N-n-” He squeaks, eyes wide.

“I missed you, _tosk_ ,” The shorter man refused to make eye contact. “I’m going to my room to shower... don’t disturb me.”

The weight on his shoulder lifted.

For a few moments after he left Denmark still stood with his mouth hanging open. Then, he grinned; he felt the muscles in his cheeks stretch almost painfully, but he didn’t mind.

_Norway had missed him too…_

Denmark had forgotten, for a second, about Sealand’s phone call; he had forgotten that he had to get back to work, and, more importantly, he had forgotten the reason Norway had returned.

When reality finally descended upon him, his figure drooped, making him appear almost hunched over, as though the gods had placed _Himmelbjerget*_ on his shoulders.

He quickly closed the door, turning the lock hastily, before he ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. In no time at all, his feet led him to the white wood door that guarded Norway’s room, rushed and almost causing him to stumble.

He knocked, and was met with Norway’s irate voice.

“I am not done yet! I literally just stepped into the shower, you idiot!”

Heat steadily climbed up to Denmark’s cheeks, making them appear bright pink. Of course, he _was_ being an idiot. This time he actually stumbled in his haste to get away from Norway’s door, almost running to his own.

 _‘Fjols,’_ He berated himself mentally, _‘Dum, din dumme idiot!’_

He threw himself onto his bed, face practically burning in humiliation. Why had he been so excited? Sure, he had not seen his friend in _ages_ , but they had spent centuries apart before. Why was he…

Denmark shuddered.

Why was he becoming so _dependent_? He was no meek little nation! He was _Denmark_ ; he was the king!

A feeling he had not felt in ages began to burn inside him, twisting violently in his gut. His eyes narrowed as he realized that he had been entirely weak in the past few weeks: it was time for him to fight his own battles. Norge must have been so tired after dealing with all of that stress…and that was all Denmark’s fault, no doubt.

His eyes stung as he realized just how many people he had affected by letting this happen to him: Norway, Sweden, Finland, Iceland, America, Prussia… _so many nations paid for his stupidity_.

Though, without his voice, Denmark was entirely useless. There was not a thing he could do to stand up for himself because he would be shot down by more dominating and aggressive nations. There was only one thing he could do, and that was to not be in Norge’s way for the next few weeks or so. A few weeks of following orders without question, letting his family dictate what he was to do and what he was not to.

Somehow, Denmark did not really like the idea, but what choice did he have? It was either this or face humiliating Norway….and the latter was something that the Dane could _never_ consider. Denmark would willingly _die_ for Norway, although there was no need for that because nations could not die but could only fade with time.

Speaking of fading, what would happen if Denmark was forced out of representing his people?

A sudden chill overcame him, sending tingles down his spine and his fingers go numbingly cold. He ran his fingers through his hair, for making himself feel reassured or trying to circulate the blood in his hands, he was not sure. A rather pressing concern presented itself to him. Honestly, what would happen when Denmark…no, _if_ Denmark was thrown out? Would he join the Ancients or would he be forced to roam the streets as a human? He did not pay for his expenses, his government did!

At this point, Denmark could hear nothing but the sound of his own harsh breathing and the steadily increasing _thump, thump, thumps_ of his heart that frightened him to no end. He did not even hear the door open until a warm pair of hands settled on his knees.

His head jerked up, nearly avoiding a collision with the pale blonde head above.

 _‘Sorry.’_ He signed at Norway, trying not to drown himself in his heart beat.

“Are you alright?” There was a foreign emotion in Norway’s pale blue eyes that Denmark could hardly decipher, “Danmark, calm down.”

Denmark just shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut to make the world stop spinning, and _what exactly was he going to do to convince the nations to let him stay-_

“ _Danmark_ ,” He faintly registered Norway stressing his name, but could not seem to make everything stop spinning, lost in his own little mind-space filled with the most distressing thoughts…

“Mathias.”

That one word was enough to make Denmark snap back into reality again, blinking harshly and shivering as he struggled to stop tears from escaping his eyes. His vision blurred again, though this time because of the clear liquid that pooled into his eyes. He absolutely _had_ to make them go away, go away before Norge-

“Are you…crying?”

_…before Norge saw it._

Denmark shook his head frantically, though that only helped the tears escape and drip down his face almost disgustingly. He ducked his head and drew his knees up to his chest to at least not bother Norway with his weakness because once they left his eyes, the tears _did not stop_.

There was an uncomfortable silence during which Denmark tried his best not to make any sounds; during which he wished Norway would leave so that he would not embarrass himself any further. When was the last time that Denmark had cried in front of his brother in all but blood?

He nearly jumped when the bed dipped slightly to his right. An arm slowly traced its way around Denmark’s hunched shoulders, making him shiver just a little at how light it was.

“Crying does not make you weak.” Norway filled the silence quietly, before clearing his throat. “And, if it helps, I will remain here.”

This was enough incentive for Denmark to sit up straight and rub furiously at his face.

 _‘No, it’s alright.’_ He signed, because he really wanted to save Norway the trouble, _‘Let’s get to work.’_

“No.” Norway stated firmly, eyes narrowing almost dangerously, a scowl twisting onto his petite features. “Despite what you may think, I _will_ stay here with you and you _will_ tell me what is bothering you. I am not a complete idiot, Dane, so do not think that you can fool me with your stupid explanations.”

This, though it sounded quite harsh, was said so softly to him that Denmark could not help the tears that began to streak down his face, his previous efforts gone to the gutter. He launched himself at the Norwegian, unmindful, for once, of how it may have made him uncomfortable or annoyed. And Norway, the wonderfully _amazing_ nation, did not say a word, letting Denmark release all the tension that had been accumulating in him ever since the entire ordeal started.

“You can tell me what is bothering you.” Norway repeats himself, though this barely registers with Denmark. “You _can_.”

 

**\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

***** _**Himmelbjerget-**_ **Danish for “The Mountain of Heaven" or “The Sky Mountain” though it is technically a hill**


	20. Chapter 18

Something was off. Norway could feel it.

It was not anything specific in the beginning. Denmark would be helpful, a little _too_ helpful. Whenever Norway wanted something done, the Dane would do it in record time. If Norway went to take a shower, there would be a neatly-folded towel outside his bathroom door. Whenever Norway woke up and went down to make himself coffee as usual, Denmark would already prepare breakfast for him.

It was unnatural. Denmark _was_ nice, but this…this was abnormal.

Then, things took a _very_ sharp turn.

Denmark would start cutting off from Norway, pretending not to hear him when he asked questions. The useful favors still continued, but Denmark would never make an attempt to communicate with him, instead focusing on the little things; turning on the table lamp when Norway spent too much time reading, preparing Norway's coffee before he woke up and getting the groceries religiously.

Norway found it suspicious.

What made the matter so much worse was the unbearable silence that enveloped the house during his stay there. He couldn't ever remembering feeling such intense pressure, not even during the days of the Kalmar Union. Those days had been… _horrible_ , in a word, but this was entirely different. Denmark was now completely ignoring him, cutting Norway off and it caused this strange feeling for the shorter nation.

He was suddenly extremely glad that Sweden and Finland promised to join them that day, but the twist was: they were bringing Sealand along. And if that wasn't what was driving Denmark so crazy, then Norway would never insist on calling the Dane 'Mikkel Densen' ever again.

Sweden, apparently, felt that it was a good idea if Sealand was put in the loop by more practical means, namely seeing that Denmark really could not speak. Finland, well, did not agree, but really had no choice. He had no better ideas.

They were set to arrive that night, and Denmark's attitude was beginning to unnerve the Norwegian.

"Denmark!" He finally snapped at him, as he watched the Dane scurry around, from his armchair. "You can only tidy the bookshelf so much! Sit down!"

He watched with mild surprise as the man's back stiffened almost dramatically, and Denmark immediately took a seat on the sofa that lay beside the one Norway was occupying.

"Well, that's a first." Norway pointed out coolly, watching carefully as Denmark's face turned ashen. "You normally never listen."

Denmark just shrugged noncommittally, as though he was not about to suffer from a nervous breakdown.

 _'It happens.'_ He signed in boredom.

"As if," Norway sighed, "You know-"

He was cut off by the annoying chime of the doorbell that resembled a dying cuckoo. Not that Norway was exactly sure how that sounded, but it seemed quite close. He imagined it was similar.

Giving the door a look of complete happiness, Denmark literally jumped up and ran to yank it open. Only, he faltered when he opened it and, as Norway approached, he could see his eyes turn hooded.

Deciding to save him from another mishap, Norway quickly barged in, nodding at Sweden and Norway and giving the third figure a strange smile, like a grimace.

"Sealand," He spoke in a tone he usually reserved for children, "How are you?"

"Great, Uncle Norway!" The boy beamed. Norway could faintly make out his rosy cheeks under the flickering porch light. "I'm beat though! Hey, where'd Uncle Denmark go?"

"What?"

Norway looked to his side where Denmark stood…where Denmark _had_ stood. His eyebrow furrowed and he said nothing; simply stood aside and gestured at them to enter.

After showing the little family where they were to stay, since Denmark was MIA, Norway retired to the couch in front of the fireplace to get some piece of mind. His body relaxed into the couch, all the tension easing out of it.

Norway frowned; he _really_ wished for some tea, perhaps an Earl Grey. His frequent meetings with Britain seemed to have influenced him, he concluded.

Staring into the fire sprung up thoughts that Norway had been trying to avoid. Really, during his flight to Denmark (the land mass), he had occupied himself with back-to-back movies just to stop thinking about things.

Denmark's problem was half the reason. Not that Norway could blame him, because honestly, it was Norway's fault, not Denmark's. No matter how hard he tried to forget it, it seemed impossible; Norway was the reason that Denmark was facing these kinds of problems.

The nations had not reacted well to their disappearance. That was not to say that _all_ the nations had a problem with it; just a select few did, but rest assured, the countries in question were very powerful.

Luckily, Greece was having one of his economic problems again, so Norway was given some room to breathe. Not that the fact that Greece suffering was a good thing; from the few encounters that Norway had had with him, the sleepy nation seemed to be one of the few tolerable nations.

So far, Norway had absolutely no idea how to fix the problem. He had to convince the international community of Denmark's competence…but how?

He startled when a hot cup filled with a brown liquid was pushed into his hands, making them burn.

"Ouch!" He hissed quietly, before looking up in anger, only for it to melt away. "Where were you?"

' _My room,'_ Denmark answered with a quiet presence. Norway could see something in his eyes; he was not sure what to think of it. _'What're you thinking about?'_

 _'I wish I could tell you,'_ Norway thought darkly, before shaking his head.

"Nothing much," He shrugged, the words feeling heavy on his tongue, "Just wondering how to feed so many mouths tomorrow."

Denmark raised an eyebrow. It was actually extremely unnerving to see that expression on the Dane's face: it did not suit him.

 _'Bull.'_ He signed, grinning, _'I'm the one who cooks, Norge.'_

"Yes, well," Norway shot back immediately, feeling a burning in his chest, "I'm the one who usually has to think about the important things, Denmark."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Norway wanted to die. He would rather have sat in Hell than seen that expression on the Dane's face again; it was similar to the look he had when Norway had found him after his isolation. A broken, gaunt look that was so closed off and distant…

"Denmark," He grabbed his wrist, "I-I apologize. I'm just really wound up right now-"

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because the muscles in Denmark's arm tensed up, and he wrenched it out of Norway's grasp.

Norway was understandably wide-eyed, because Denmark had not acted so violently since…well, a long time. It was an alien move.

Before he could say anything more, the Dane had left him alone, with only a cooling cup of tea in his hands.

The next morning, Norway woke with a headache. There was no way he could fall asleep easily, not after seeing that look…

In fact, it was that look that had Norway staring at the ceiling for hours on end, unable to catch the faintest wink of sleep. No amount of caffeine could help him this morning.

Sighing, Norway swung his legs over the bed, before heading toward the bathroom to brush. His fingers absentmindedly rubbed at his throbbing temples, trying to ease the ache.

It was like a mild hangover, and Norway absolutely _loathed_ hangovers.

"Norway!" He winced when Finland burst into the room. "Hurry and get dressed!"

"Why?" He covered a yawn, "What's the point?"

"The point," The Finnish man crossed his arms, "Is that we need to tell Sealand today."

At that, an image of Denmark flashed before Norway's eyes. He sighed because, what choice did he have?

"Alright," He closed his eyes at a searing pain in his head, "I'm going to come downstairs in a while. Be prepared."

Finland seemed to understand the hidden message- _brief Sealand and be prepared for tears_ \- because his eyes darkened and he nodded, before leaving the room.

Norway stared sadly at himself in the mirror; his skin was pale and clammy, his eyes bloodshot and his hair mussed. He would need to fix himself up, needed to look presentable.

Opening the doors of his wardrobe, Norway tried to ignore the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach…

When Norway descended the stairs, he was hit by the overwhelming smell of coffee and, despite his current predicament, his mouth began to water. Tea was good later during the day, but before that, coffee was life.

Denmark was in the kitchen, long hands reaching for the sugar in the cupboard above as a kettle of what was likely tea hummed away. Finland liked tea, Norway realized with a start, and Denmark actually remembered. That, in itself, was shocking.

"G'd m'rning." Sweden called from the table, where he was reading the Danish newspaper. All the Nordics knew the others' language to some extent, though most of them were not very fluent. Norway himself was excellent in the Danish and Icelandic languages.

Norway nodded curtly at the tall, imposing male then asked for Finland.

The Swede's face tightened and he pointed towards his room.

"Denmark, let's go." Norway commanded, once again trying to quash the weird feeling in his gut. "We need to tell Sealand."

He saw the Dane's hands still and tremble faintly but ignored it as the man hurriedly wiped his hands and turned off the stove. Denmark brushed past him, eyes on the floor, although Norway tried to meet his gaze. The dismissal made his heart stutter to a stop, because _Denmark never did that_.

He forced his feet to start moving in the right direction, fighting the sickness that began to rise up in his throat.

When he entered the room, he saw Sealand blabbering mindlessly at Denmark. Finland was nowhere to be seen. Denmark's face was pale and his hair uncontrollably messy.

"Sealand, where is Finland?"

The blond boy pondered before lighting up, "In the bath!"

"I'm here." Finland stepped out of the bathroom, Norway's view foggy because of the steam flowing out.

"We have something to tell you." Norway exhaled harshly through his nose."It is of utmost importance."

At this, the child perked up, chest puffing out.

"You can tell me anything," He boasted, "I'm a grown nation!"

Denmark's eyes were closed.

Finland placed himself next to Sealand, leaving Norway the only one standing.

"Peter," He used the boy's human name, "It's about your Uncle Denmark."

"What's wrong?" Norway could see Sealand's eyes widen as he faced Denmark.

"He…" Finland sighed miserably, so Norway told him straight on.

"Denmark can no longer speak."

As the words jumped off his tongue, Norway closed his eyes so that he would not see the heart-broken expression on his nephew's face. After a few moments of silence, however, Sealand giggled.

Startled, Norway glanced at Denmark and Finland, who seemed equally as lost as he was.

"Is that all?" He lofted an eyebrow, before smiling at their gobsmacked faces. "I already knew that."

"What?!" Finland cried in surprise, as Denmark could only gape widely at the boy.

And Norway? Norway could only stare.

"How did _you_ find out?!"

"I have friends, you know!" Sealand said indignantly, "Seychelles told me that France told her that Uncle Norway and you told him at the World Meeting!"

Well. Well then.

Norway blinked as he struggled to regain his bearings. So, Sealand already knew. So, news traveled fast. So, half the world knew. So, Norway freaked out for _absolutely nothing_.

"Uncle Denmark!" Sealand glomped the thin nation, "I don't care whether you speak or not; you're still the same person aren't you?"

Norway saw the Dane nod frantically and, after exchanging a look with Finland, left the room to give them some semblance of privacy. Denmark deserved that much, at least, after all of his worrying.

He sighed as he took a seat next to Sweden, who didn't even look up from his newspaper, though there seemed to be a hint of a smirk on his face.

Well, at least that was one worry down.


	21. Chapter 19

“You know the plan, yes?” Norway muttered from the corner of his mouth to a seemingly disinterested Swede, carefully watching the Finnish-Danish duo before him, “I hope I can trust you with this.”

‘ _Trust_ ’: the very word Norway absolutely _loathed_ using and hearing. Trust was a foreign concept, one that was frightfully foolish; no nation could possibly _trust_ another, because that would be their downfall. After all, nothing that ever happened was according to the wish of the personifications themselves, but their leaders…yet, it was always them who got blamed for everything in the end. It was them who had to suffer the most.

So, the fact that Norway used this despicable word was very important. To Sweden, who had known the Norwegian for so long, it meant that he was being very serious; neither of them threw words around very lightly.

“’f cours’,” He muttered back, careful not to alert the Icelandic-Sealand(ic) duo _behind_ them, “I c’n do th’s.”

Norway stared hard at him, trying to gauge his sincerity, before sighing and nodding. Sweden was a tough nut to crack, and Norway simply did not have the time to do that.

“Okay.”

He nodded, before handing his boarding pass to a widely-smiling air hostess. Rolling his eyes at the dramatic Nordic, Sweden did the same, though he did grumble something unintelligible under his breath.

The Nordics were on their way to India.

 

“Remind me again as to _why_ I agreed to this?” Norway grit his teeth as he heard Iceland whine about the humid weather, and how his ‘beautiful’ skin ‘could not handle the sun’. Iceland was not the only one who had issues with heat; most of them did, but Norway didn’t see any of _them_ complaining. But Iceland was his brother ( _Norway’s brother_ ) so Norway didn’t snap at him like he might have at another nation.

He also ignored the harsh glare of Sweden, who undoubtedly saw through his act of ‘ignorance’, and focused instead on communicating to the cabbie where exactly they needed to go. The man just stared at him, amusement flickering in his eyes at his exaggerated motions, before answering in decent English.

 _Bangalore was apparently one of those places where truckloads of people knew English_ , Norway thought sourly while trying to ignore the snickering behind him, courtesy of one Dane and micro nation. Sometimes, he hated having pale skin.

Yet, despite the embarrassment, Norway was somewhat mollified by the fact that Denmark was at least enjoying himself before things got crazy. That is, in the worst case scenario…and this was basically the only scenario possible. There was no way the nations would take anything sitting down, not with what had happened during the previous meeting (basically, Norway and Denmark leaving midway, _very_ dramatically). Germany would be first in line to oppose them.

Sighing, Norway stared outside sullenly, before realizing with a start that they were not moving. In fact, it seemed as though the entire road, which seemed to stretch on for _miles_ , was _completely_ covered up by cars; every automobile was literally touching the ones in front of it and behind it, and random motorcyclists were trying to squeeze themselves between the narrow gaps.

“What is going on?” Norway demanded, addressing the driver, who was looking entirely unconcerned, “Why are we not moving?”

“This is normal, sir,” The cabbie smiled reassuringly, though it did nothing to quash Norway’s doubts, “It’s just a small traffic jam.”

‘ _Small? SMALL?!’_ Norway could count on his left hand the number of times he had been in a traffic jam of this caliber!

“Ah, it’s alright,” Finland, who had been eerily quiet for most of the ride, spoke cheerfully, “Thank you for letting us know.”

“No problem sir!”

Denmark and Sealand were still gossiping with Iceland in a corner.

Norway once again stared outside at the steadily growing line of cars, trying his very best not to glare at the Finnish man for being so despicably nice to him, else Sweden would have his head. Norway preferred it intact.

He closed his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a head ache coming on due to the cacophony of noises from outside, no doubt the irate people in the automobiles who were sick of the long wait. And, when, the car actually began to move, he felt the strangest exhilaration; he had actually lost all hope prior to that godsend.

He made a mental note to bring that to India’s notice.

 

When the group of six finally staggered into the hotel they were supposed to, Norway let out a small sigh of relief. That drive had been absolutely _torturous_ for him. How did Indians deal with this traffic on a daily basis?

They checked in, sticking to the pre-decided room assignments; Norway and Denmark, Sealand, Sweden and Finland, and Iceland by himself. Normally, Norway would not have let Iceland off on his own, but this time, he had to protect Denmark at all costs, hence the difference in roommates.

“Got the key?” He asked Denmark as they entered the elevator. The rest of the Nordics had to stay behind, for what, Norway was not sure.

Denmark nodded, a slight grin stretching over his lips.

‘ _Safe and sound,’_ He signed, beaming at Norway, who had to bite his lip from smiling back. It had been so long since he had seen that radiant smile, that Norway would do _anything_ to keep it there. Denmark simply _could not_ go back to how Norway had found him months ago, on the brink of starvation in a pigsty that even the pigs would shy away from. That would…Norway could not even begin to _think_ about how it would feel.

“Good,” He settled for nodding, before abruptly walking out of the elevator once the doors slid open.

Their room was number 333, which Norway was extremely satisfied with, seeing as how it was just one digit repeating itself; it became so much easier to remember.

Denmark fumbled with the key, entering it into the keyhole before turning it shakily. The lock clicked, and he pushed the door open slowly; maybe because it was heavy? It certainly looked solid.

Norway hauled in his suitcase, immediately claiming the bed close to the balcony. He hated the feeling of lying so close to the wall, trapped between the cold and the dark, his mind plagued by thoughts. He needed to stop himself from stressing out, and sleeping in the corner was _not_ the way to do it.

Denmark kept his own suitcase at the foot of the bed, before heading to the bathroom, probably for some exploration. Denmark tended to want to check out every hotel they went to, to see if “they have any cool stuff”, in the Danish man’s words. Norway was not very interested in that, of course.

Norway stared at the ceiling for a brief five seconds, before sighing and getting out his briefcase. He had a lot to prepare for the agenda the next day, and simply wasting time was not going to help him.

“Denmark,” He called out lowly, making the Dane perk his head up in question, “Get me some coffee.”

Denmark nodded quickly, before slipping on his shoes and leaving the room; Norway was left in silence, a frown forming on his otherwise flawless face. Denmark normally would have whined a lot before doing _anything_ for anyone. Something was definitely up with him.

Taking out his phone, the Norwegian dialed a number he thought he’d never need to use. The phone rang for a couple of minutes, before it beeped and a rough voice was heard on the other side. Norway shut his eyes, before speaking quietly:

“Hello? Prussia? I need you to do me a favor.”


	22. Chapter 20

The next day, Norway feels distinctly queasy. It was strange, actually, to think that, because Norway had never felt such a sensation, not even on the brink of war. But here he was, clutching at his stomach first thing in the morning, trying desperately not to let the anxiety get a grip on him. Denmark was outside, most likely speaking to Sealand, Sweden and Finland were in their rooms doing god-knows-what, and Iceland had already gone down for breakfast, leaving Norway alone in a suffocating silence that symbolized something greater than what he could handle.

His breath stuttered as he strongly willed himself to calm down; after all, a sign of weakness was going to be of no help to anyone, but the opposition. And with a case like Denmark’s, Norway _knew_ he would need to be as bull-headed as he possibly could.

He could already predict which nations would take which sides, but there were a few he was not so sure about. There were Germany, for example, and Russia. Germany might or might not support them, depending on a wide range of factors (one being that his elder brother was one of Denmark’s closest friends). Russia, on the other hand…well, Norway had no idea. Maybe Finland’s connection to the Baltics could help?

Hi musings were interrupted by a steady rap on his door, which made his head shoot up so quickly he could feel it crack. Norway winced at the pain, before slowly getting up to answer the door. He wasn’t exactly happy with the fact that he was disturbed, but when he saw who it was, the feeling immediately evaporated.

“Sweden,” He said quite obviously, before shaking his head and stepping aside to let the man enter, “We need to do this quickly. Where’s Finland and Sealand?”

“’n th’ room,” Sweden answered gruffly, as he placed his coat on an arm of the closest chair. “I did wh’t I sa’d I w’ld.”

“Good.” Hopefully, the Baltics would receive the message before the meeting or before Russia found out that they had received said message. “Have anything that could help our case?”

“Y’s, ‘f co’rse.” Sweden grunted, before shoving a neatly folded envelope at him. Norway frowned, wondering what on Earth that envelope could possibly hold, before shrugging and beginning to open it. Only to freeze when the Swede grabbed the hand the was peeling the flap open.

 _‘Not yet_.’ Sweden’s eyes said, and Norway got the message. It was obviously something that they would have to use as a last resort. Thinking about the ‘last resort’ hurt his mind, so Norway cleared all thoughts of that and simply stood up, staring at himself in the full-length mirror. He fiddled with his tie, untying the knot before re-doing it, dusted off his shirt, checking for any creases in the expensive fabric, and finally put on his shoes.

“You c’n d’ th’s.” Sweden wasn’t typically one to hand out encouragement on a platter, so the fact that he was doing so made Norway feel marginally better about their chances.

 

“We can do this.” He whispered to himself in Norwegian, the language that offered him a comfort like no other.

Another knock on the door came this time, and Norway had no idea who it could be. Glancing at Sweden, Norway crossed the room in big strides before answering.

It was Denmark; Denmark who looked slightly worse for wear.

‘ _Finland’s asking you to go downstairs, to be on time.’_ He signed, and both Norway and Sweden nodded at the same time. Sweden left the room noiselessly, and Norway made to follow, but he was tugged back by a light grip on his wrist, and before he knew it, he was surrounded by a oddly comforting yet definitely foreign warmth: Denmark was hugging him. His grip on Norway’s wrist did not let up, until he retracted it to sign, ‘ _Danke’_ which meant so much then, when Norway was feeling so unsure.

As he traveled down in the elevator, Norway could feel his wrist burn.

 

He ran into Prussia on his way to the conference room. The white-haired man did not crack a perverse joke or grin unbearably brightly, but only nodded at him and wished him well. It gave Norway a sense of reality… that this was actually happening.

“Don’t worry,” Prussia assured him, “I’ll take care of Denmark. You focus on the meeting.”

Norway could only hope he would.

 

He could feel the burning gazes on him the minute he entered the room. Spotting Sweden, he quickly took a seat next to him, shuffling through his briefcase for his papers, trying to hide himself from those stares…until he realized that that was exactly what he could _not_ afford to do. Norway _had_ to stand tall.

He straightened his back, and mechanically re-organized the contents of his briefcase until his back was nearly knocked off by an enthusiastic American.

“Hello Norway!” The man beamed at him, taking a seat on the side that was not occupied by the silent Swede, “How’re ya doing? I just wanted to say good luck, y’know? If you ever need help, you can come to me!”

“Oh, thank you.” Norway had always been overwhelmed by the superpower; he just did not know how to deal with such energetic personalities. Denmark was different, he was just…Denmark, simple as that.

“Yep!” The man grinned cheerfully, before leaving to harass Britain. Norway almost felt sorry for the man with bushy-eyebrows, before he remembered that if he did not concentrate, he would only feel sorry for himself and Denmark. He could not let him down.

Nations slowly started filing in, Finland and Iceland among them. Neither Denmark nor Prussia showed, and Norway felt a sense of relief. It would be so much easier to do his job, now that Denmark was not around (because he made Norway expect so much).

“Hello Norway,” An unfamiliar voice caught his attention, and Norway squinted up at the newcomer…was it Kuwait? No it couldn’t have been; Kuwait was on the other side of the room

“I just wanted to say good luck. You’re going to need it, you see, because there’s no way any nation’s going to accept _that_ mute as a representation. Nations need to be strong, and Denmark seems to be anything but.”

It took all of Norway’s willpower not to stand up and bash the nation’s face in, and it seemed like Sweden was also resisting the urge, based on how his fists were constantly clenching and unclenching.

The man, whoever he was, obviously didn’t get the hint, or maybe just ignored it.

“You’re going to lose, Norway.” He hissed, “No one wants a useless nation on their hands, unless they just want land. Denmark’s land is probably worthless, probably infertile too, so I don’t see why you even-“

“That is _enough_.” A hand clapped on the man’s shoulder, making his dark brown eyes widen in surprise. “You may _sit down_.”

The room quietened immediately after that, some nations not understanding what had happened.

Germany moved to stand in front of the room, light blue eyes holding a deathly serious note to them.

“If anyone has to say _anything_ , they will have to say it to _every_ nation. Slandering is _not_ an option. No matter how strong an opinion you may hold, informal issues will _not_ be tolerated. Am I understood?”

No one dared say anything, not even Italy who, by this time, would be yelling something ridiculous along the lines of ‘pasta’.

“Good.” The German took a seat, “Norway, would you like to begin?”

Norway gathered all the courage he could, and stood up.


	23. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a serious turn.

“I would like to start off,” Norway spoke quietly, “By stating that Denmark- that _Mathias_ \- has represented Denmark ever since the land’s creation. He has, under his belt, centuries of experience…experience that simply cannot go to waste.

“I have suspected for quite some time that Denmark’s condition would be a grave matter for most nations because, after all, he cannot speak. Most of you might believe that such a hindrance would immediately disprove his value, but I can confidentially assure you that no such thing would happen to Denmark…especially if all the nations gathered at this venue extend their whole-hearted support.”

Norway saw a placard being raised almost immediately, and could barely distinguish the name, when the nation stood up, a concerned frown playing on her face.

“You stated that Denmark could handle himself…why, then, is he not present?”

If she had said it disrespectfully, Norway might have strangled her, but since she had not, he let her be.

“He-” Norway hesitated briefly, before ploughing on, “Denmark is currently occupied with an urgent matter, so will not be here today.”

“Probably because he’s too much of a wimp to do this himself!” Someone called from the back of the room, and Norway’s vision began to tint red.

Unfortunately, that prompted the other nations to begin their own heated debate about why Denmark hadn’t showed up, and why Norway was the one speaking in his place.

Norway tightened his fists in order to maintain his famed cool composure, glancing at Sweden and Finland for some sort of reassurance. There was no doubt that he was confident, but with the way things were going, there was no way he would be able to persuade the other nations in time for the voting.

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!”

Heads swiveled to the front of the room at the familiar line, eyes meeting an angry German’s. Germany glared at the entirety of the room, crossing his arms.

“Did I _not_ make it clear that no informal debate is allowed?” His glare could have melted ice with the way it was almost shooting out lasers.

A hand was raised timidly, and Norway was surprised to see that it was America’s twin…what was his name again? Canada: that was what his name was. Unfortunately for him, no one seemed to notice his raised hand, except Norway.

Norway cleared his throat softly, and all eyes were immediately on him. Ignoring them, he nodded at Canada, “You wanted to say something?”

The Canadian turned crimson when everyone turned to look at him, but stood up regardless.

“I-I just wanted to say,” The man stuttered, obviously unused to the attention, “That I believe Denmark should _not_ be cast off. No nation who has a heart can do that to one of our own.

“And,” He licked his lips nervously, “About his speaking impediment, it should not make a difference. Take me as an example. No one ever notices I’m there, unless someone really observant points me out. Even though I _do_ have my speech, it doesn’t make a difference, because no one notices anyways.

“Denmark is someone who has an enormous presence. You _always_ notice him; he’s kind of like Al- America. Even though he can’t talk, it shouldn’t matter, because he still has the power and the knowledge to make a difference…and I feel that’s what counts.”

There was a heavy silence, and Norway could not help but look at America, who stood there almost lifelessly, arms hanging by his sides and baby blue eyes wide and shiny. He mouthed something, and Norway could clearly distinguish it after those months with Denmark: ‘ _Mattie’_.

Germany finally spoke up, a sort of respect in his clear blue irises, “Thank you, Canada. Is there anyone else who would like to speak?”

There was a brief silence, then:

“Hm…I believe I would.”

 _Well shit_.

Norway felt an immediate pang in his chest when a silver-haired nation rose, a cute little smile playing on his lips. It seemed that he had not acted quickly enough to prevent this.

Russia smiled at all the nations present, especially at Norway, which made the Norwegian feel something was amiss. Everyone was silent, even America, who normally would have jumped up to oppose the tall Russian.

Norway frowned inwardly; perhaps the Canadian’s little speech was not of best interest for their cause.

“Denmark, you say, is experienced, da?” The Russian smiled cheerfully, “I believe he is no longer fit for assuming a role such as this…a role with great responsibility. Look at it practically, Norway; how is he going to carry himself during the talks? Peace talks, I am sure most of you will agree, are of utmost importance to us nations. What can Denmark do if he is under threat?”

“Are you implying something, Russia?” Norway did his best not to let his anger show, but it seemed as though the Russian had either anticipated it or had been able to read it in his posture.

He couldn’t help it, though; Russia had better not be threatening Denmark’s safety, else he would have to face Norway. And Norway was no pushover, rest assured.

“Don’t be angry, da?” The man continued to look cheerful, “I am only pointing out potential problems. And before you try to defend him, Норвегия, think carefully. You cannot represent _him_ forever, da? What if, one day, you turn against him?”

‘ _Over my dead body’_ Was roughly what Norway wanted to say, but no words could come out. Most of the time, it did not matter what the representative nations wanted; in the end, it was always what their Bosses wanted. They were nothing but puppets. And if Denmark was forced to turn against Norway or vice versa...what would they do?

To Norway’s horror, many nations looked like they were beginning to agree with what Russia was saying. As much as he hated to admit it, Russia was making pretty reasonable points…arguments that Norway had no idea how to rebuke. He was beginning to grow desperate; he had promised Denmark a countless number of times that he would convince the nations to let him stay.

Norway would not be able to bear the sight of his heartbroken, tearful face after delivering the bad news. He would likely never see Denmark again: how would the man live afterwards? Would he be forced to die on the streets, or fade?

Fading was one of the worst phenomena Norway had ever witnessed…and the thought that it could happen to Denmark frightened him to the core.

That was when it struck him.

That envelope that Sweden had given him…perhaps it could be of use? Norway looked at the tall man doubtfully, but any qualms he had were eased when he saw Sweden give him a reassuring, and confirmatory, nod.

He was startled out of his reverie when Germany cleared his throat quietly, before banging his hand against the wooden surface of the table.

“We will continue the meeting after a ten-minute break,” Germany said gravely, blue eyes dark. “I expect everyone to finish whatever they need to _on time_.”

“Snacks and tea are being served outside!” Norway could hear India call from the other side of the room, “So please help yourselves!”

He was being too chipper for the way things were going, Norway decided.

Nations immediately began to get up, excited at the prospect of food, and Norway could have sworn he heard Spain loudly wonder whether they were serving raw tomatoes. It was actually a little disturbing. But Norway was not very preoccupied with that, no; he had his eyes on the envelope and its contents _only_.

Once most of the nations had left the room, he sat down and eagerly took out the manila envelope, smiling as he opened it. When he saw what was written inside, however, his smile quickly fell.

 

_A few sayings to inspire:_

_Strength Through Unity, Unity Through Faith_ *

 _By union the smallest states thrive. By discord the greatest are destroyed_ **

 _For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack_ ***

_Necessity unites_

 

Norway frowned. All of these were random quotes. What was he supposed to do with these? A familiar feeling crawled up onto him, chilling his insides. Where could he find actual information; information that would help him?

“Look at it carefully, brother,” Norway startled when Iceland settled down next to him, gaze trained only on the piece of paper, “Look at it closely.”

Was Iceland in on this elaborate hoax? Norway did not want to believe it; he thought that Iceland would be serious enough not to joke around like this, especially at such a crucial time. So worried he felt, that Norway could not even find it in him to rejoice at the fact that Iceland had finally acknowledged their relationship.

His brother rolled his amethyst eyes at Norway doubting stare, neatly plucking the paper out of the Norwegians cold hands.

“I can’t tell you what it means, Norway, you have to figure it out on your own.” Iceland glared, but his expression was soft, “And let me tell you, they’re _so obvious_. I wanted to use a more complex one, but Sweden and Finland insisted. And I guess it’s a good thing they did, because you _evidently_ cannot even figure out an _obvious_ message.”

“You are just being ill-mannered.” Norway crossed his arms.

“I’m not being rude.” Iceland mirrored the motion, “And you’re wasting time. Read the damn thing, comprehend it, and then beat Russia to a pulp.”

Well, when he put it that way…

Norway narrowed his eyes, and stared at the words on paper.

The first one clearly meant to say that he had to have faith in something…but what? Himself? He already had plenty of that.

The second one was heavily centered around destruction as a consequence. He had to work together with something or someone.

The third hinted at a symbiotic relationship between a wolf and a pack. Perhaps, he was important to someone, and for him, that someone was important.

Norway’s head was starting to hurt when he moved on to the last saying. ‘Necessity unites’…it was something about uniting with someone. But, who was he supposed to unite with? Were they suggesting an alliance?

Norway gazed around the room as Germany called for an end to the time-out. Who, of all people, could help him? America was out of question, judging by how close he was sticking to his brother. Then, one of the other nations? Britain? Japan? Germany? China? None of they seemed right.

He looked anxiously at Iceland, who gave him an eye roll, before gazing at Sweden, then Finland, then Sealand…and then it struck him.

Norway actually felt like a cow, at that very time: slow and dumb.

It had been _so obvious_ ; they were telling him to trust in himself and the _Nordics_. They were like family, they wouldn’t just leave each other to the dogs. And, Norway realized, that had been what they had been doing that since they were mere children. He could barely remember a time where they had abandoned each other of their own free will. Finland had been a late addition to their family, but they guarded him like their own. And Denmark…Denmark was no different. He and Sweden were the eldest, and had always looked after everyone. Denmark deserved at least this much.

Norway _had_ to make everyone see sense.

 

“Norway, would you like to answer Russia’s question?”

 

He _had_ to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YUP! This is how much I've updated so far, and hopefully, I'll actually update on AO3 on time. Sorry once again!
> 
> ~beingawesome


	24. Chapter 22

Norway stood up, squared his shoulders, feeling a heavy weight settle on them; he needed to make things right…especially because _he_ caused Denmark _so much pain_. It was the least he could do, for causing him an eternal life of misery. And, to do that, Norway would need to place trust in his fellow Nordics.

 _Trust_ \- the one word he absolutely _loathed_.

Despite the fact that the Nordics had _always_ stuck together, Norway couldn’t help the tiny sliver of doubt that wormed its way through his chest. What if they…what if they took advantage of his trust? He- he couldn’t misplace it like that.

But, taking a look at Finland’s warm brown eyes, and Sweden’s intense blue eyes, even Iceland’s cool amethysts, Norway took a deep breath, and let those voices go.

“Prior to the break,” He began, “Russia mentioned that Denmark might not be able to hold his own in peace talks. ‘What if you turn against him?’ were his exact words. Well, Russland,”

Norway paused, pushing out his chair, and beginning to walk around so that he could reach Russia. Ignoring the brief fear at the thought of what he was going to have to do Norway locked his eyes on Russia’s own.

“I believe you underestimate us.” Norway waved his hand towards the rest of the nations present in the room, “We have these meetings in order to resolve world issues peacefully, and so would it not make sense that a responsible nation would do their utmost to promote peace? Even if one of us _does_ go rogue, I have the confidence that the members of this council, the representatives of the _world_ , would snap us back, make us see the light.

“And even if _I_ cannot represent Denmark, though that is unlikely,” Norway saw Russia’s eyes grow a fraction colder, “You, _all of you_ , seem to forget that it is not just _me_ who cares for him, but the rest of us Nordics.”

As if on cue, Sweden, Finland and Iceland stood up, gazing around the room with determined eyes and cool gazes, respectively.

“We are _family_.” Norway took a deep breath, before glaring at Russia, “And we guard each other with our _lives_.”

There was a startling silence after that, and Norway wanted to laugh at the irony; here he was, arguing about Denmark’s induced muteness, and all the occupants of the room were immediately silenced. Yet, the beautiful sound was shattered.

“Aw, that is really cute,” Russia cooed, but his eyes were still cold, “But Norway, we all know that _you_ cannot trust _anyone_ , da? How can you possibly make such bold statements then, hm?”

Norway squared his shoulders, feeling appropriately insulted, when a voice came from behind him:

“It’s true that my brother has trust issues.”

Norway whirled around, not even caring about the shock that had etched itself onto his features. Out of…out of _everyone_ who could have possibly said that, why _Iceland_?! It- It wasn’t _fair_.

Finland looked dumbstruck, eyes wide and mouth quivering, and even Sweden’s navy blue irises held a note of shock in them; shock, because _what was Iceland doing_?

Iceland did not even spare his brother a glance and, in any other situation, Norway would have felt a great indignation, but now…now, he was just glad he did not, else he might have cracked. And- and if _that_ happened, Denmark would not be able to stay a nation, and _hewouldhavetogocoldandhungryandhemightfadeand-_

“Norway has always been one of those countries with too little trust and too much _dis_ trust, heavy on the ‘dis’, but, you see, Russia, he’s changed his mind. Is it impossible for a nation to start over, to try and turn a new leaf?”

Wait, what?

“The United Nations, sorry, the ‘ _League of Nations_ ’”, Iceland made ridiculous air quotations, “didn’t accept Germany after World War One: look where that got it. Luckily, the same mistake was not made after the Second war; else I would be so _horribly_ disappointed.”

Iceland shook his head in mock sadness. Norway was pretty sure he was gaping.

“You see, we let Germany, a nation with _way_ too many issues to count (no offence Ludwig), try again, but we can’t let Norway do the same- Norway, who is trying to let go of his weaknesses?”

Iceland frowned. “If that is the way we work, then I propose we all just give up and go home.”

That last sentence startled the Norwegian, and he was about to open his mouth to refute that last idea (because, what? Iceland, you’re not supposed to antagonize everyone!), but Germany, who was looking a little pallid beat him to it.

“While I do acknowledge your speech, Iceland, I would prefer it if we all carried out our responsibilities.” The German stated a little uncomfortably.

Norway was beginning to wonder where Denmark was. He _had_ requested Prussia to appropriately distract him, but he had expected them to at least arrive by now.

As if on cue, the door burst open, exposing a panting albino, with an equally dazed blonde beside him. Norway breath caught in his throat when he saw the bright grin illuminating his closest friend’s features; it had been _so long_ since a smile that large, a smile that reached his sparkling eyes, was present on his face.

The same smile immediately disappeared when Denmark took in his surroundings, and Norway could have sworn that the room suddenly got chillier than before. He shivered, before straightening up, and turning to Denmark.

“Denmark, come here.” He addressed the still nation, beckoning him forward, “We were just discussing our situation, and Russia brought up a very strong point. What,” He paused, “Would you do if we all turned against you, so suddenly? What would you do if no one were by your side?”

For a second, all Denmark did was stare wide-eyed at Norway, and he began to feel a doubt creeping along his spine; did he, perhaps, make a mistake? Should he not have asked the Dane such a question?

They made eye contact; for the first time in _days_ , Norway looked into those baby blue eyes, wondering just _when_ anything would be right again. Almost immediately after, the confusion clouding those achingly familiar eyes cleared, and the Danish man shrugged.

 _‘I wouldn’t be in such a situation.’_ He had the sense to sign it towards America, and Norway could barely believe it- if he weren’t in front of almost every democratic nation to exist, he might have even let the shock he was feeling slip onto his face. Whatever the case, he had not expected _that_ thought to cross Denmark’s mind. He anticipated something akin to fright, then a calm demeanor. Denmark would have said something along the lines of trusting the other nations to stop them- or that, surely, _not_ all of the Nordics would abandon him- but not this.

 

This was blind trust.

 

“He says that he wouldn’t need to think about it because that would never happen.” America translated for the nations, and Norway saw Russia’s normally wrinkle-free face twist- for the briefest of seconds- before it disappeared completely.

“Yet, you can’t be sure, am I right?” Norway couldn’t help his sharp inhale when he heard Austria ( _Austria_ , of all people) speak, “You never can be too trusting, Denmark. We are not always in control of ourselves...it is our leaders and our people who are of the highest priority for us.”

“Shut it, ya stupid prude-” Prussia snapped, only to be interrupted by his younger sibling, who snapped in rapid-fire German.

The average, non-Germanic nation would not understand, but Norway could. He liked to read a lot of books, so it made sense that he’d learn a lot of languages on the way. Of course, his German was not very fluent, so he could only catch snippets from the conversation, but the basics were something about etiquette, courtesy and name-calling.

That was something he’d be doing to Denmark, that is, if Denmark were to still have his voice.

“It’s the truth!” Norway was startled out of his thoughts by the heavily accented Russian’s voice, “Half the things we have done in the past…they have always been determined by our leaders, da? Besides,”

Here, he looked at Denmark, and Norway felt a chill travel down his spine.

“Even if you can save yourself from your… _family_ , can you save yourself from _you_?”

Denmark’s eyes grew impossibly wide at that, and Norway wondered why this statement had that impact on him. Denmark was fine, wasn’t he? He didn’t seem any different, after all-

Norway’s eyes widened a fraction. It…it seemed to make sense, now? How could he not have realized..? When he looked at the other Nordics, at Sweden, Finland and Iceland, he saw the same expressions of shock.

How could they not have seen it?

“Even if you remain a representative,” Russia smiled in a deceptively cute fashion (Norway wanted to strangle him _so, so badly, and why wasn’t anyone doing anything about this?_ ), “You’ll still feel like a burden, won’t you, Дания? I cannot blame you: without a voice, how can you _not_ feel useless? You will be bothering everyone else with this…problem, of yours-“

“ _Stop_ ,” It took Norway a couple of seconds to realize that it was _his_ voice that sounded so angry, “Just what the _hell_ do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to _pull_ him down?”

He lost all sense of control by then, as he stalked forward, shoving aside a stuttering Lithuania. Grabbing the tall Russian by the collar of his shirt, he snarled, “I should _kill_ you for this.”

Russia, the _infuriating_ nation, smirked, his face so close that Norway could feel his chilly breath. “Go ahead, if that would give you any pleasure.”

“You-” Norway made to punch him in the face, only to find that he was being restrained.

He bucked wildly against the arms holding him back, scowling heavily. How _dare_ … _how dare_ he say such a thing? Norway once thought Russia was misunderstood, but it became clear to him that the man created his own reputation.

The entire room was thrown into chaos; nations were arguing with each other, irrespective of where they were, the Baltic States were doing their best to calm Russia down, and Norway could faintly make out Finland saying something to him, but all his focus was on Denmark.

“Let me go,” He hissed at the person immobilizing him, Sweden, before shaking out of his grip and marching towards Denmark.

The second Norway touched his shoulder, Denmark straightened up and smiled tiredly; it was a smile that Norway knew he wouldn’t like. Denmark would always give him these types of smiles that would let him know what he was thinking; this particular smile made Norway worry about what Denmark was going to do.

“Are you okay?” He asks under his breath, glancing around at the arguing nations, “What were you and Prussia doing?”

Denmark just shook his head, before opening his mouth and letting out perhaps the loudest yell Norway had heard in the history of his very long life.

The blood rushed from his face: Denmark was damaging his voice…what if he couldn’t speak after this?

It got everyone’s attention, though, so Norway had to wait before berating the Dane.

“Wait, you can talk?!” Someone, Turkey, complained, crossing his arms, “What was the point of this stupid meeting then?!”

Denmark shook his head and, in the silence of the meeting room, Norway finally heard his voice after _ages_.

“I’m…not supposed to be talking.” He rasps out, and Norway’s eyes widen because _has it gotten worse_?

“My doctor recommended-“

“No more talking.” Finland stood up, and even from a distance, Norway could see the tears glistening in his eyes. “Please, Denmark.”

Their friend ignored them in favor of looking hard at Russia.

“You’re right,” Denmark admits, voice even softer; had it not been like a void in the conference room, Norway might not have heard. “Not having a voice may make me significantly weaker, but have you ever thought it to be just another language barrier?”

Norway could see where he was going with this, but he didn’t necessarily have to like the number of words Denmark was using.

“”Most of us speak different languages, but-“ Denmark coughs a little, and Norway’s heart leaps out of his chest, “But, have any of us rejected each other for that?”

Russia’s eyes narrowed, but he did not say a thing. How could he? Denmark’s argument was sort of irrefutable anyway.

“Still,” The Czech Republic, avoiding looking at anyone, “Don’t get me wrong, but at least we can speak.”

“Yelling at each other won’t-” Denmark coughed again, and Norway couldn’t take it anymore.

He faced the trembling nation and glared as hatefully as he could. Just saying no offence didn’t remove the offence, did it?

“You might be able to speak, but it’s not like any of you actually contribute valuable ideas.” Norway snarled, “All we do is sit here all day, yammering and arguing about the most _trivial_ things. I’d think that, in this case, having a voice is quite disadvantageous. We could use someone who can actually do things objectively…unlike the people here today.”

Some of the nations reacted with dark eyes, others with their heads bowed. Norway noticed America’s conflicted face, and wondered what was going through his mind. Faintly, he could hear someone, likely Iceland, clapping softly.

“Well,” Germany cleared his throat uncomfortably, “We will need to decide by today itself so that we may continue the conference tomorrow as previously scheduled. If you would take your seat…”

Norway realized, with a jolt, that he wasn’t sitting down, and trying his hardest not to die of embarrassment, he sat next to Iceland. Denmark sat right next to Norway, and he couldn’t help but avoid his gaze. It was no secret to him that Denmark might have been pissed; despite the circumstances, Norway knew that the Dane wanted to handle things by himself.

What was really bugging him was what Russia had said earlier. Did Denmark really think he was worthless? More importantly, why didn’t Norway notice? It had gotten to him; Norway wanted to crawl into a hole and wallow in misery. He had never lost his cool like that in front of the other nations, but the more he heard Russia taunt Denmark, he…he couldn’t help but jump to his defense, pure fury frothing in his chest.

If there was one thing he hated, it was picking on the weaker opponent.

Regardless, Norway realized that what he did was completely unlike him. He still didn’t understand the foreign emotion that accompanied his anger, but it didn’t matter. The manner in which he dealt with the incident was incorrect.

“We will now resume the voting process,” Germany said gruffly, before slips of paper were handed to each nation by friendly-looking staff. It was old fashioned, but at least it worked.

Norway closed his eyes for a moment, praying. Then, he got out a pen and began to write.


	25. Chapter 23

“Wh’t d’ you th’nk is g’ing t’ happ’n?”

Sweden was never going to admit it, but Norway could see he was worried. With how his brow was furrowed and his eyes darting over to where Switzerland and Luxemburg were counting the slips of paper on which the nations had just written their answers.

Norway shrugged, feeling the worry gnaw at him despite his forced nonchalance.

“I’m not sure,” He admitted, “It could go either way.”

“I’m sure we’ll win this.” Finland stated confidently, determination shining through his caramel brown eyes, “There’s no way they can send Denmark away.”

“How are you feeling, by the way?” Norway directed this at Denmark, who was continuously eyeing the box with the slips in it.

“How do you _think_ he feels?” Iceland snorts derisively, and Norway feels worn down, “ _Oh, yay! They’re going to decide my future right now! Yipee, I’m so happy!_ ”

“Shut up.” Norway rolls his eyes at him before looking expectantly at Denmark, “So?”

‘ _I guess we’ll see_ ,” Denmark signs, a small smile playing on his lips, and maybe Norway gets a little jealous (because how come _Iceland_ made him smile and not Norway?), but he just nods and agrees.

The five of them were seated in a corner of the room, just opposite to where Switzerland and Luxemburg were. It was a really strategic position, according to Norway; they could look at them better than anyone else.

Most of the other nations were actually outside the conference room, drinking coffee and tea, and eating some strange sweets that were apparently special to India (what were they called again? Julbari? Jalebi?) but Norway didn’t care for them. He was more focused on the important things…namely, not throwing up from the anxiety.

He had worked really hard for Denmark, just to see him smile that blinding grin from what seemed like years ago. If it didn’t work…he had no idea what he was going to do. Over the time he spent with Denmark, Norway found that he wasn’t as annoying as usual; once the whole control issue had been removed, Denmark was just as he remembered.

They hadn’t been as close as they once were though, Norway could determine. That unity between the Nordics was going to be hard to recover.

“Anyways,” Iceland was saying, Norway could faintly hear, “I’m pretty sure we’re going to win. I heard some of the others talking outside about their votes. A lot of them said they’d vote for Denmark, so I guess we’ll see.”

Norway snapped to attention at that, throwing Iceland a sharp glance.

“You’re absolutely sure about that?” He raised an eyebrow, trying not to betray the rapid pounding of his heart.

“Yeah, mostly,” Iceland shrugged, looking much calmer than he probably felt (Norway had taught him well), “I think they’re done counting.”

At that, Norway looked to where the counting was happening. Sure enough, Switzerland was stretching while Luxemburg was staring at the box. Unfortunately, neither of the two was easy to read; no matter how much Norway scrutinized them, it seemed that he would need to wait until the results were officially announced.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” Norway muttered silently, before taking his leave. It would be embarrassing to say it any louder.

As he walked down the hallway, he briefly thought to himself to hurry up; he wasn’t sure how much time would pass before the session resumed, after all. At the fork between two hallways, he turned left, but froze altogether when he heard voices. It was terribly nosy, but he strained to hear what they were conversing about.

“-I’m sorry.” A voice, distinctly American, was saying with a sad undertone. “I…I never realized-“

“Just let it go, Al,” A voice that _also_ sounded American said back, obviously distressed, “You- it’s not your fault. You weren’t the only one anyway.”

The last part was said rather bitterly, Norway noted, as he tried to place the second voice. Was it an American state, perhaps? No, states and provinces weren’t allowed to official meetings. So, who exactly was it?

“It’s not okay, Mattie!” He heard America protest, “It’s…God, I’m _so stupid_. I- How has it never occurred to me that I was…that I was _hurting_ you?”

“Shut up,” The other voice hissed, and it finally struck Norway that it was _Canada’s_ voice he was hearing. “Just shut up. It doesn’t matter anymore, okay? I’m used to it anyway. If you _really_ feel bad about it, try and remember I exist once in a while okay?”

Shuffling sounds began and Norway could make out footsteps heading his way. To make it seem less suspicious, he began walking as well, and when he passed by the hallway that the conversers were in, he looked up and locked gazes with the Canadian. His purple-blue eyes had a hint of anger in them, an emotion that Norway never would have guessed the gentle nation possessed.

Canada immediately looked away, before walking past him. Norway, feeling a bit awkward, looked past where he was previously standing to see America standing there, seemingly lost in thought, his face troubled. It wasn’t any of Norway’s business anyway, so he let it go, and turned sharply to go to the bathroom.

 

Once his bladder was duly emptied, Norway felt a lot better; in other words, he was assured that he wouldn’t urinate in his pants or something equally as mortifying. As he stepped towards the sinks to wash his face, he looked into the mirror, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Russia was right behind him.

The tall man said nothing, simply stepped forward and began washing his hand in sync with Norway. The Norwegian man felt pressured by this; what was he supposed to say? He and Russia weren’t really on the best of terms at the moment because, maybe, _they were leading opposing sides._

It didn’t matter anyway; just as Norway was about to leave, Russia spoke.

“Good fight out there Norway,” His eyes were sincere, “I got the letter, by the way. Also,” He paused,

“This will not leave this room,” He smiled in his trademark fashion, and Norway couldn’t help but gulp, “But I hope Denmark stays. He always compliments my scarf.”

The bulky man brushed past him, and Norway could barely move from the shock. What? But, Russia…he had argued so much, had stooped to the level of _degrading_ Denmark…why would he do that if he wanted him to _stay_?

Norway didn’t _understand_.

 

 

He returned late to the conference room; everyone was already seated and Luxemburg and Switzerland were already standing at the head of the ovular table. As he slipped into his seat, Finland whispered, “They’re gonna announce the results!”

As if Norway already did not know that, he scoffs, yet he still nods at the warm-eyed man because he knows just how worried the Finn is despite the lack of signs. _All_ the Nordics, even Iceland who was trying his best to look indifferent and Denmark who was openly biting his nails and Sweden who was gripping the arms of his chair a little tighter than normal… _all_ the Nordics felt the anxiety clawing its way through their chests, and most of them were glued to the suspense, barely hanging on.

“As you know,” Germany started, and Norway felt something cold shoot up his chest and speed his heart because _it was happening_ , “In the previous session, the members of this conference have cast their vote for two options: to retain Denmark as a fellowman or to dislodge him from his position as a representative nation. Luxemburg and Switzerland have counted the votes more than thrice, in order to ensure that no miscount occurs.”

He nodded at the two aforementioned nations, who parroted his motion before stepping forward. Luxemburg’s cool silver hair glinted in the fluorescent lighting in the room, and Switzerland’s appeared a stark contrast with its golden sheen. From where he sat, Norway could see the intensity of the smaller nation’s teal-blue eyes as they scanned the sheet of paper that Switzerland held in his right hand, as his left was holding a rifle. Norway was too anxious to care about the potential gunfire like he usually would, so focused on Luxemburg and, more importantly, _the piece of paper_ that meant _everything_.

“Ve have counted the votes,” The lesser known albino spoke clearly and, normally, Norway would have been mentally taking notes to make his public speaking skills stronger. Right now, however…now, Norway really wanted to hear the result. Would he be able to Heimlich the words out of him? - it was a very tempting thought.

Thankfully, Luxemburg wasted no more time:

“It is very narrow, but with the votes being 100 in favor and 96 against, Mathias Kohler would retain his right to represent the Kingdom of Denmark.”

That was all Norway could hear; he could see Luxemburg’s mouth moving, could see Germany take up his position at the head of the table again, could see Finland’s teary, relieved eyes, could make out the imperceptible relaxation of Sweden’s shoulders, could see everything, but not really see it. All he could focus on was the warm clammy grip on his hand that tightened to the point of bruising at the news. He hesitantly squeezed back, not used to something so _close_ but unwilling to give up the high that their victory brought.

After Germany dismissed the meeting, Norway and Denmark were flooded by people, most of the offering their congratulations and best wishes for the future. A part of Norway couldn’t help but snidely compare the event to something akin a wedding, but he squashed it down. Now was not the time for this.

Looking over at the Dane, Norway frowned when he noticed he was tiring, if the exhaustion in his stance was anything to go by. Perhaps it was time to retire to their rooms.

Just then, he realized that America had shouldered his way to them, eyes sparkling in excitement. Upon further inspection, Norway could see a melancholy lurking around in the baby blue of the superpower’s eyes, but made no comment due to his strangely fair mood.

“Yay! You won!” America beamed at Denmark, making the exhausted man grin back. “I knew you guys could do it!”

“Yes,” Norway agreed politely, ducking out of the way as several nations stumbled past, their limbs flying everywhere, “How are things going on with your brother?”

Okay, so maybe he commented. He could not help it though, it was staring him in the face! Yet, he felt a little remorse looking at how the grin slid off the American’s face at the mention of his northern neighbor.

“Ah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck looking decidedly uncomfortable, the complete opposite of what one would expect, “I’ll talk to him...after the meeting.”

“Right, of course.” Norway tensed as he spotted a large mass moving towards them, “I didn’t mean to pry. Anyhow, we had better get going now; Denmark’s feeling quite tired, am I right Denmark?”

The Dane frowned at him, obviously wanting to tell him (or sign him?) off, but Norway tried his best to convey the message using his eyes: ‘ _Russia. Coming. Kill. You?_ ’

Denmark obviously seemed to have gotten the gist, saying nothing but, in fact, shouldering past Norway and America to greet the tall man. Denmark looked like a dwarf next to the Russian and he, by no means, was small.

“What the hell?” He heard America mutter beside him, and was inclined to agree to the sentiment. What in the hell indeed.

Pushing down his innate fear, Norway stepped forward to help Denmark. His mind flashed back to the break, the Russian man’s words floating back at him.

‘ _I hope Denmark stays. He always compliments my scarf._ ’

He relaxed a little. Russia couldn’t pull anything in a room filled with nations anyway.

“Hello.” The innocent-faced man smiled serenely. “My sister wishes to extend her congratulations on the win.”

Denmark grinned at Norway, who couldn’t keep his face from mirroring the action. The Dane had always been contagious like that.

“Thank you.” Norway nodded, “We appreciate it.”

He had no idea which of the two sisters Russia was talking about, but it had to have been Ukraine; the gentle nation seemed much more likely than Belarus, who would probably wanting to skin Denmark (and Norway) alive. It was no secret that the siblings’ dynamics were…different.

“No problem, da?” Russia smiled, before waving good bye to Denmark and leaving. Norway thought he was being too nice (read: creepy) while Denmark just shrugged.

‘ _He’s not that different Norge_.’ He signed, looking the tiniest bit upset, ‘ _Everyone misjudges him_.’

Norway only delivered his own shrug to that because- what was he supposed to say? ‘Oh no Denmark, I don’t approve of your friend choices like a control freak?’

He preferred to keep silent.

 

 

By the time they finally made it back to their room, Norway felt dead on the inside. While it was nice that Denmark could still…well, be Denmark, the number of nations they had to speak to was overwhelming. He couldn’t help but sigh as he flopped onto his bed.

“You’re happy, aren’t you Denmark?” He forced his head to turn to the side where Denmark lay, on his own bed. “We won.”

‘ _Yeah, we did_.’ The Dane signed back, ‘ _It’s amazing. Thank you so much for helping me, Norge._ ’

“Nonsense,” Norway murmured, blinking languidly, eyes slipping shut of their own accord. “We’re…family.”

He was out like a light.

 

 

 

 

SIX months later saw the Nordics gathered together in Denmark’s living room. Norway had never been for the Christmas spirit, but he didn’t protest when he was asked to come. Well, not much anyway. He couldn’t help his travelling gaze; he could still remember, clear as day, the sight that had met him when he stepped into Denmark’s house, after months of self-isolation. It had been so dark, so dreary, so… _not Denmark_. Now, though, it was brighter.

Streamers decorated the room, looping around antiques that Denmark liked to hang up on his walls, ending near the corner where the Christmas tree sat. It wasn’t, by any means, a particularly large or special tree, but heaps of Christmas decorations had been piled onto it, courtesy of Denmark, Iceland and Sealand: the finishing touch was the golden star that appeared to be drowning while trying to reach for the skies. Not exactly a pleasant thought, Norway knew, but that was what it was.

A pleasant aroma drifted in from the kitchen, and Norway’s mouth watered (oh sweet potatoes). He quickly took a sip of his now cool tea, wincing when he accidently took too large a gulp. Beside him, Finland gave a sympathetic smile from behind his mug of coffee.

“D’ner’s re’dy!” He heard Sweden shout from the kitchen, and Denmark bounded out, eyes sparkling with happiness. Norway remembered the first time he had visited Sweden’s house, after Finland moved in; he was extremely shocked to find that Finland absolutely could _not_ cook. He had expected quite the opposite, but at least the Finnish man didn’t deny it, unlike England.

The six of them took their places at the ancient table, talking and laughing cheerfully. Norway would never admit it, but it was truly a heartwarming sight (not that he’d need to, because his wide smile said it all, really).

He met Denmark’s eyes from across the table, and smiled sincerely; they were not sure if the Dane could ever speak again, but there was still the slight hope, the doctor had said. Yet, as Norway passed Denmark the mashed potatoes, he found he didn’t mind the silence anymore. As long as Denmark was happy, nothing mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters will become longer.  
> I hope.


End file.
